At The Dead Center
by RienMuse
Summary: Arlene was pulled into a new world she had never known before as she opened her birthday present. Could she go out of there before it's too late? AU/OOC
1. Birthday Present

**Written for The Indie Fanfic Competition. **

**Author's Note: **I've always wanted to write a fanfic about marginal characters and made them as the main characters. Arlene Fowler was the first name that popped up in my head. She's just complicated. As complicated as Tara, but in different way. I'm going to be honest with you, I am not familiar with Arlene Fowler in True Blood or SVM. So, if my portray on her is different from your imagination, or from CH's, let just say, I'm giving my best shot. Eric Northman is mandatory. No buts, hows or whys. Basta. Except, when I am missing Godric.

I have two other stories going for the moment. Probably, this story won't be updated quite as frequently as it should (depends on my donuts supply and my beta readers' time). But hey, if it's updated, I promise you a hell of joy ride.

A little tid-bits, the name Viktor is inspired by Mr. Chekov from Star Trek. I just love the way Anton Yelchin played him, and the way he said, "wiktor, wiktor"...

**Beta: BonTempsBeau, MsPeppermint (Thanks a lot guys! It's been a wonderful time, working with you two!)  
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**Disclaimer: All characters belong to Charlaine Harris, except John Fowler. He's mine and John's. The 'giant condom' expression is courtesy of Ms. Peppermint.**

**This Story is picked up by the Hosts of The Indie Fanfic Competition and got a 'special mention' as the most indie-pairing. Thanks, honorable Hosts!  
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><p><strong><span>Birthday Present<span>  
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**Viktor with K  
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"It's a mistake," said Arlene between breaths. "We should stop, Viktor."

"Eric. My name is Eric," the man pressed her against the wall beside her apartment's door. "Let me in, and I'll prove to you that it's not a mistake." He kissed her neck. "Please..."

Arlene pushed him away. Viktor or whatever his name was moved back a few steps. His face was still pale, but his eyes blazed with lust. His mouth was half open. Clearly, he didn't expect she would have done that.

"Look," said Arlene and sighed when she saw her blouse had lost two buttons. This man was strong and eager...too eager for her tastes. "This is a mistake. It's all this crazy idea from a friend of mine that I should go out with a man from a sex-service...I mean, escort service. Yes, we had a good time; I don't deny it. You're a good dancer, and the movie was excellent, but that's it. I can't take you in."

"Why not?"

"Viktor..."

"Eric."

"Viktor, Eric...whatever, tomorrow is my birthday. I am going to be forty."

That man lifted his eyebrow.

"I know, I know, it's not an age, life begins at forty, blah, blah, blah...the point is, I've never used an escort service before, and I am not sure if I want to have sex with a total stranger. This whole idea of going out with an escort was fun until I actually did it. You know what I mean?"

"Escort service?"

"Yes, escort service...or what do you call it? Gentlemen companions? Anyway, a friend of mine had this brilliant idea for my birthday present: a gentleman from an escort service, a hotel room and a day-off tomorrow. 'Everything is taken care of,' she said. 'All you've got to do is go to the hotel and meet Viktor. Viktor with k sounds exotic, isn't it? He's tall, has blond hair and blue eyes. He will wear dark green suit, black shirt and a silver ring.' So, I went there; I saw you, and you know the rest." Arlene sighed. She should've listened to her heart when it told her to leave the hotel and ignored the familiar warm feeling in her pants! Instead, like a giddy school girl, she had agreed to go to a night club not so far from the hotel and to watch the last show in a theater. She had even said yes when Eric asked whether he may take her home.

He fixed his jacket's collar. He looked offended. "I am not from an escort service. I thought you hit on me because you liked me."

"Say again?"

"I am not from an escort service. I thought you..."

"Yeah, yeah...," Suddenly Arlene felt stupid. If he wasn't from an escort service, then… "Who are you?"

"I am Eric. Eric Northman."

Arlene felt her face hot. "You are not Viktor with k?"

"No. I am Eric with c."

"Dear Lord!" Arlene covered her mouth with her hands. "I am so sorry...I thought..."

Eric came closer to her. "Don't be. I am not."

"But...but your hair is blond, and your eyes are blue! You also wear dark green suit and a silver ring. That's Viktor's description!"

"This is not a silver ring," said Eric. He'd cleared his throat before he said 'silver', as if that word could harm him. "It's white gold, and a lot of men wear dark green suits. I suppose, it is my lucky suit." He was getting closer. His hands were now on her hips again. "Let me in," his voice was soft, but Arlene could catch the commanding tone in it. "If tomorrow is your birthday, let me make you feel like you were reborn."

Arlene held his hands. She didn't want them to move or to do anything that made her more nervous than she already was.

It had been a long time since she'd been with a man. Since her divorce two years ago, she had focused on her work. She didn't want to fall in love again only to...wait, who talked about falling in love? Eric had offered sex. Only one night, and that was it. She could cut him loose afterward.

She just hoped it's going to be easy when she did it. Eric was in his 20s and good looking. He had a pair of piercing blue eyes and long blond hair. He's at least 6'3" tall. He's pale and not that muscular; however, judging from his movements, he wasn't a kind of person who would spend his days indoors. She had felt how strong his grip was. Having sex with him must be good!

"Arlene...," Eric rolled the 'r'. "If you thought I was supposed to be your birthday present, then unwrap me."

_Right...unwrap him...dear Lord, where did this man learn how to pitch woo? Cheap romance books? _

His cold lips were right above hers, but they didn't move. Strange, she didn't feel any air coming out of his mouth, which hovered over hers like a hungry boy in front of a candy jar.

She tiptoed and was about to kiss him when a hoarse voice called her name:

"Mrs. Fowler?"

They turned to the source of the voice. Eric pulled her behind him. It was either an instinct or a surprised reaction; either which, it startled her. She heard the sound of 'click' and snarls. Were there...dogs? She popped up her head. No, there weren't any dogs. Three men were standing in front of them. They looked intense. Their hands were balled into fists, and they looked as if they were ready to attack. She didn't know those men; why did they look so hostile? Did Eric know them? Arlene looked at him and didn't find any expression on his face. Only his eyes were narrowing.

"Yes?" asked Arlene nervously.

"I am Jackson Hervaux," the man in the middle said. He was the oldest among them. "I am a friend of Miss Selah Pumphreys. Do you know where she is? I've been trying to contact her the whole evening without success."

_So, this is the Jackson Hervaux, _Arlene thought. The name was spoken several times by Selah, but Arlene had never met him in person.

Now he was standing in front of her. Jackson Hervaux was almost as tall as Eric. He had a military haircut and a pair of alert green eyes. He didn't move a lot, but Arlene could tell: the hands that were hanging beside his strongly built body were ready to send a blow.

"Have you tried her cell phone?" asked Arlene, after she had managed to push away an uncomfortable feeling that had come without invitation. She didn't like the alertness she was witnessing; it made her feel as if she had been standing between two opponents.

Hervaux nodded. "I've even tried her emergency phone number."

Selah had given him her emergency phone number? Hervaux case must have been very important for her. As far as Arlene knew, only two people had that number: Selah's mother and herself.

"I am sorry, Mr. Hervaux," Arlene said. "I don't know where she is."

"If she calls you...please tell her to contact me as soon as possible. It's urgent."

Arlene nodded.

"I am sorry for interrupting your evening, Ma'am."

"Oh, that's okay." Almost as if she regretted saying it, she continued with a low voice, "it's about to be over any way."

Hervaux nodded and walked away. The other men looked at Eric one more time, before they nodded at her and followed Hervaux.

Arlene felt somehow relieved. Something told her they knew each other, and their acquaintance didn't seem to be on friendly terms. Something also told her, Eric had better leave.

As if Eric heard what she had in her mind, he turned around and said, "I'm staying."

"Excuse me?"

"They're dangerous people. I won't leave you alone tonight. Your friend doesn't know what she got herself into."

"And you do?"

"No, but I can tell from their faces they are serious about whatever your friend is dealing with."

"Wait a moment, Eric...right? I don't know you, and I don't know what we might have had tonight, but it's a mistake. I..," her sentence was cut off as Eric grabbed her and pushed her against the door. With one hand holding her in position and with the other angling her chin and lips upwards towards his, he kissed her. Before long, Eric didn't need to hold her face anymore. She answered his kisses. When his cold hands went under her blouse and softly touched her skin, she gasped. His hands were as cold as ice.

"Open the door and let me in," she heard his voice growling.

"My keys...they're inside my purse..."

She heard the sound of her keys rattling. Then, the door was open.

"Invite me in."

"What?" Arlene didn't believe what she heard. The door was wide open; why did he need an invitation?

"Invite me in." He sounded impatient.

Arlene held his neck. _What the heck_, she thought. _Whatever will be, will be. _One thing for sure, she didn't intend to let this six foot plus tower of horniness go.

"Eric, would you come in?"

BAM! Eric kicked the door shut as soon as they were inside. "I must warn you," he smirked. "I bite."

She looked at him. Was that supposed to be a warning? She looked up and saw flickering lights in his eyes. This man was totally horny! "I bite too," she said, teasingly.

Eric opened his jacket and threw it on the floor. Arlene kicked her shoes and laughed as he lifted her and growled, "Your bedroom?"

Everything seemed to happen very fast. The next thing she knew, they were on her bed. _It's a mistake, _again the voice in the back of her head warned her. _I don't know this man. Inviting him on my bed is a huge mistake. _

But the voice was slowly getting weaker, and she couldn't hear it anymore once Eric started disrobing her. He seemed to know just how and where to touch. His cold fingers ran on her skin like the melting ice and awoke a new sensation she couldn't describe. With each touch, her heart jumped, and her body reacted wildly. She saw goosebumps popping up on her skin; she heard herself moaning and sighing. As she watched him kissing downward, she grabbed the sheet, trying to prevent the sudden feeling of excitement from bursting out.

"I warned you, lover," Eric lifted his face. His blue eyes were glossy from lust. "I bite."

"Then bite, for crying out loud!"

He bit indeed. As he buried his mouth on her thighs, she wailed. Dear Lord, it was painful! She felt as if she had been slashed by a knife, or stitched with a needle. She swore; instead of teeth, Eric must have had a set of fangs! She raised her head to see what Eric was doing; however, before she managed to do it, his hand had reached out and covered her face.

"Lay down, lover," she heard him growling, "and enjoy."

Arlene let herself fall back and did what Eric had told her. She closed her eyes and enjoyed every touch and bite he was giving her. As painful as it might be, his bite aroused her like nobody had ever done to her before...or was it the result of the ten years of marriage and two years of abstinence? She had slept with the same man for the whole ten years, she didn't know how she would feel to sleep with another man, and then no man at all after her divorce. Now, she's having a much younger man, who was touching and biting her as if there would be no tomorrow.

She covered her face with her hands as he was entering her. Her heart was racing faster and faster as he pulled and pushed her body. At some point it was so fast that she was afraid it would explode at any minute. She then felt his cold tongue licking her leg again, on and below where he had bitten, arousing her even more. Finally she couldn't hold it anymore; she let out a loud scream.

Then, everything was quiet. She didn't, couldn't hear anything else but the sound of her heartbeat, beating wildly. She sighed, "Oh, Eric...,"

Eric let her legs go only to lay down beside her and softly said, "Turn around."

Arlene didn't know how long it was going on; frankly, she didn't care. Every time he was inside her, her body reacted madly. She could only close her eyes and let him do what he pleased because at the end, she was the one who was pleased. When he finally reached his orgasm, she heard him moaning and speaking in a language she didn't understand. She held him tightly and felt like a broken twig when he was exploding inside her. Dear Lord!

Eric threw himself beside her. He licked his lips. His eyes were bright, but he didn't shed any sweat. He didn't have short breath, either. Opposite to him, Arlene almost couldn't breathe.

"Happy Birthday, Arlene Fowler," he smiled. "May you be given a long and happy life."

She smiled. "Thank you, Eric."

"Do you feel like you are reborn now, or shall I do it again?"

Arlene chuckled. "Are you always like this? Your poor girlfriends."

"They don't complain."

"I bet they don't." Arlene touched his face. "Will you stay the night?"

"I'd love to, but I can't. I have..."

"It's okay," Arlene interrupted him. What did she expect? It was a one night stand after all. "Make sure you turn off the lights when you leave. I don't think I can leave the bed now."

He kissed her forehead. "Forgive me, lover, but I also have to make you forget about the night."

"Don't worry, Eric." Arlene tried to sound as casual as possible. "You're good in bed, you really are, but we both know, it isn't meant for a longer relationship or any kind of relationship."

"That's not what I mean."

Arlene grabbed his neck and kissed him. "It's a wonderful night, and you're such a wonderful birthday present. Let's keep it that way, shall we?"

"Arlene...,"

"Psst," she put her finger on his lips. "Don't worry, Eric. I am fine. By morning, I will forget you." She laid her head down. Tiredness suddenly came over her. "Good night, Eric and goodbye."

-1-

**Sam Merlotte  
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A loud bang on the door forced Arlene to get down from the bed, wrap the blanket around her and drag herself to the door. She had heard the bell, but she was too lazy to get up. It was her birthday, for God's sake! Didn't a woman deserve to have a longer day in bed on her own birthday?

She peeped through the hole on the door and saw Holly Cleary, Selah's secretary, standing in the hallway. She looked nervously over her shoulder, as if she was looking for someone.

Arlene opened the door. "Holly, what are you doing here?"

"I...," Holly looked at her; her mouth dropped, but soon, she managed to pull herself together and said, "Ms. Pumphreys asked me to come to you if I didn't hear from her today. She didn't come to the office today, Mrs. Fowler."

"What time is it?"

"Half past two."

Dear Lord, she had slept that long?

"Did Ms. Pumphreys call you or say anything to you?"

Arlene shook her head. Why were people looking for Selah? What had she done?

"Do you know where she is?"

Again, Arlene shook her head.

Holly bit her lips. Clearly she was worried, but about what? "Thank you, Mrs. Fowler; I am sorry to drop by without notice and bother you in your day off," she said, trying to smile, but her smile faded away as soon as it appeared. "Happy Birthday, Mrs. Fowler, I am really sorry."

"Thank you, Holly."

Holly was stepping down the staircase, when Arlene decided to ask her. "Holly, do you know anything about Hervaux case?"

Holly turned to her; her face was pale. She looked more worried than before. "No, I don't. Shall I look into it for you, Mrs. Fowler?"

She lied, Arlene was sure of it. "No, it won't be necessary." she said. She didn't want Holly to get suspicious and do something stupid like removing the file. She was about to close the door when Holly suddenly said, "Actually...I have something for you."

Arlene opened the door wider. Holly walked to her and opened the clasp on her necklace. "I want you to have this necklace, Mrs. Fowler, as a birthday present."

"Oh, Holly, it's really not necessary...,"

"I insist, Mrs. Fowler." Holly put the necklace in her hand. It was a necklace with a three-crescent-moons pendant; two of them were side by side and the other one was on top of them. A white stone was on its center, and another was on its drop."This is an old necklace and probably has no value at all. It's silver. The triple moon pendant symbolizes a woman's life: as a maiden, a mother and a crone. The one who sold it to me said if we believe in it strongly, it can protect us from any harm and help us to see wisdom in the time of troubles."

Arlene looked at the necklace on her hand. "It's a beautiful necklace, Holly. Thank you."

Holly smiled. "My mother used to say, 'If you want to give a person a gift, give them something you love.' And I love this necklace very much." She pressed it into Arlene's hand and ran down the stairs.

Arlene watched her figure until it was gone. What was going on? She had to find out. She had to go to the office or Selah's house and check for anything that connected her to Jackson Hervaux.

She put the necklace on the table, threw the blanket to the sofa and went to the bathroom. As she caught her own image on the mirror she screamed, "Dear Lord!"

There were bruises all over her body; on the arms, legs, breasts and when she turned around; she saw more bruises on her back, ass and legs.

She moved closer to check if she had also bruises on her neck or not and felt relief when she saw none. What had Eric done to her? As much as she loved their sex; she didn't want to look like a victim of an assault case! Jesus! If they ever had sex again, she would make sure Eric would never bruise her again or she would call the police!

Arlene sighed. If they ever had sex again...heh! It's unlikely for them to see each other again! She didn't know his address or phone number; of course, if he was really Eric Northman like what he said and not Viktor.

Arlene pushed those thoughts aside. She had better things to do than think about a male escort now. She had to go to the office and looked through Selah's files. She couldn't afford to stay in the dark like this. The law firm Fowler & Smith (it was Selah's idea to use 'Smith' instead of 'Pumphreys', because it sounded more elegant) belonged to her as much as it was Selah's. It wasn't a big firm and has only a few clients; still, it was her source of income and a large part of her life. If Selah got involved in something that endangered the continuity of the firm, and she didn't know anything about it, she would look like a fool!

She climbed into the shower cabin and turned on the hot water. "Shit!" she screamed as the water fell down on her body and touched the wounds. She felt as if her body had been stitched with a thousand needles. Every inch of her body was hot and in pain. She made a mental note that day, never to let Eric or any man bite her again. Ever!

-2-

The Fowler and Smith Law Firm office looked dimmed. Its ivory walls, which had shone brightly at the beginning of its existence around two years ago, now started blur. Some parts of it had even begun to crumble.

Selah and Arlene formed the firm after Arlene had left her position at Jones, Baumberg and Fowler. She couldn't work there anymore. She couldn't face the fact that her husband, who was one of the firm's owners, had cheated on her with her own secretary. She could've pretended nothing had happened; that her professionalism had stayed intact and not been influenced by her personal matters. However, she couldn't lie to herself that she didn't notice the whispers, or the looks the people at the firm had given her.

They had to struggle from the beginning. The clients she brought with her from the old firm weren't many, but enough to support the life of the firm during the first two or three months. After that, they had to find new clients. John, her ex-husband, had offered to work as a sub-firm, but she had refused it. She didn't want to have anything to do with him again. She wanted to start a new life, away from him, personally and professionally.

Sam Merlotte, her secretary, looked at her in disbelief. "I thought you would stay at home, Ma'am," he said.

"I changed my mind. Did Selah call in yet?"

Sam Merlotte was one of Selah's people. Arlene didn't know where Selah had found him, but she couldn't complain about it. Sam was very good with his work. He was neat and organized.

"No, Ma'am," he said. "Mr. Hervaux called and asked about her too."

"Oh, where is she?" she murmured. "What happened to her?"

"I don't know, Ma'am, but I am worried." Sam sighed. "It's not Selah whom I know."

He and Selah must have gone back for a long time, since both of them were in first name basis since day one. Arlene could understand his feeling for she's also worried. She took a chair and sat beside him. "Do you know something that I don't?" she asked. "Is she involved in something dangerous?"

Sam blinked. "I...," he fingered his wavy brown hair. "I...don't feel comfortable discussing this with you, Ma'am."

"Cut the crap, Sam. If she's in some kind of trouble; as her partner, I have the right to know."

"It's...it's not that simple, Ma'am. Selah's family and the Hervaux have known each other for years. Jackson is facing a family dispute now and wants to have Selah's advice about it."

"What kind of family dispute?"

Sam cleared his throat. "His family business is electing a chairman. Jackson wants Selah to find out whether the new chairman candidate is a part of Hervaux' clan or not."

"Didn't they ever hear anything about DNA?"

Sam didn't answer. His eyes blinked rapidly; after a while, he said, "It's not only that, Ma'am. Jackson suspects that the new candidate works with their rivals to destroy their company."

"That's a serious accusation, Sam. Does he have proof to support his accusation?"

"No, that's why he wants Selah to go through some papers and find some people for them. I actually want to take some days off," Sam continued with his eyes down to the ground, "to help her with the case," he added hastily.

"We don't have so many cases, Sam." Heh, that was an understatement. They had only two. One was the Jackson's case, and the other was a minor case of public disorder. A man was found naked in the park. He didn't remember how he got there and why he had been naked at the first place. They were going to have their first hearing on four days. She had enough time to prepare her case. "I think you can go if you want. Maybe you can also try to contact her."

"I will Ma'am," he said. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," Arlene stood up, "because when she returns, I'll kick her ass so hard she will be very mad that you found her!"

"I'll make sure you're able to do it, Ma'am," despite the sternness in his voice, Sam smiled.

"Before you go, could you please take out all papers about Hervaux case? I want to take a look at them at home and see what I have been missing."

Sam fingered his hair and bit his lower lips. This man was definitely nervous and worried. Arlene wasn't sure whether he was worried about Selah or about the things she might find out in those documents. Whatever it was, she must get those documents.

She stood up and walked to Selah's office.

"Mrs. Fowler...," Sam grabbed her hand. She shot him a sharp look. He let her hand go. "The documents are not at the office anymore."

"What? Where are they?"

"Holly has taken them."

"What? What's going on here?"

Suddenly Sam turned around and sniffed. "I don't have enough time to explain. We have to leave, Mrs. Fowler. Now!"

Before Arlene could protest, Sam had grabbed her hand, snatched his own bag on the way and dragged her along with him.

"Sam...!" Arlene wanted to pull away her hand, when she heard somebody...something...growled and roared on the hall way. The hair on the back of her neck stood. Dear Lord, what was that? It sounded like animal.

Arlene ran as fast as she could, as the sound of the growling animals was getting louder. Sam turned his head from time to time to check whether she was still behind him or not. Sam kicked the door that led to the stairs to the first room, but then, he turned around and said, "Take the trash pipe, Mrs. Fowler. I'll try to stop them!"

The trash pipe was the garbage disposal system that would take the garbage straight to a big container behind the building.

Sam opened the pipe's cover. "Go straight home and call Mr. Fowler. Please, ask him to help you leave town as soon as possible. It's not safe for you to stay here!"

"But..."

"Trust me on this, Mrs. Fowler. It's for your own safety!" Sam took her hand, as Arlene bent her body to enter the pipe.

The growling sound was getting louder. Now, she even could hear the sound of their steps approaching. It seemed there were several of them.

"What about you, Sam?"

He clinched his jaws. "I'll call you as soon as I am able." He pushed her inside, and let the cover fall. Arlene caught a glimpse of red lights coming towards them before she slid down along the pipe. She bit her lips tightly and closed her eyes as she fell freely.

Her body didn't make much noise as it hit the black bags in the container. Arlene removed some paper and plastic that stuck to her body, before she jumped out of the container. Without turning around she ran to her car and like a maniac, she left the building.

On the west the sun was slowly going down. As if the nature wanted to mock her, the sky was covered with layers of colors: yellow, orange, blue, black and bright red; they mingled and were twisted like the colorful costumes the dancers wore as they danced on the streets during a carnival, laughing and smiling, not to care whether their watchers were having good or the most miserable time in their lives.

-3-

**John Fowler  
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Arlene's hands were shaking as she dialed her ex-husband's number. From the minute she stepped out of the car, she'd run all the way to her apartment. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being followed by whatever the hell that was back at the office. Even once she was back inside her own home, where she should feel safe and protected.

"We have to meet! Please, John. I wouldn't ask you if it wasn't urgent."

"Hey, hey, slow down." His deep voice reached her ears. Arlene didn't realize how much she had missed hearing his voice until now. It felt like a glass of cool water on a hot day; it calmed her down, made her feel somehow safe. "What happened?"

"Somebody...something tried to kill me and Sam."

"What? Are you both all right ? Where are you, now?"

Somewhere on the background, she heard her ex-secretary's voice. "Who is it, Honey?" "Arlene." "What does she want?"

Arlene didn't hear John's answer; and frankly, she didn't care. "At home. Please, John. I really need your help."

"Stay there. I am coming to get you."

Click.

Arlene threw herself down on to the sofa. Jesus. What had Selah gotten herself into, and where the hell was she?

A glimmer caught Arlene's eyes. The living room lamp's yellow light shone on the necklace that Holly had given her. Arlene had left it on the table, and as if the stones had wanted to remind her about the necklace's existence, they shone brightly.

Arlene picked it up. It looked like something that had been a family treasure and passed down from one generation to the next. She hung the pendant around her neck. The necklace was the only good thing that happened in her birthday. She wanted to enjoy it whilst it lasted.

Bang, bang, bang!

Somebody knocked on the door loudly.

Arlene looked at her watch. It had been only ten minutes since she called John. It couldn't be him.

Bang, bang, bang!

"Mrs. Fowler, I know you're in there." Bang! **"**Open the door, please!" a rough man's voice made her jump. Bang!"Mrs. Fowler!"

Arlene looked around. She grabbed the first thing that caught her eye - the crystal vase John had given her on their second anniversary. Whoever was at the door, they didn't have good intentions. She didn't keep any guns in the house, and her kitchen knives were too far away.

The pounding on the door was getting louder and louder; and finally...krakk! The door was kicked wide open. Two men with wild eyes and dressed all in leather stood at the threshold.

"You should've opened it up, lady," one of them grinned, showing yellowish teeth.

"W-what do you want?" Arlene was shaken. "W-who are you?"

"Just give it to us and you won't be harmed," the grinning man sneered. "If you're nice to us, we'll be nice to you."

Arlene gripped the vase tighter. Give them what?

"Stop wasting our time, bitch, or you'll regret it!" the other man said. His jaws moved and made 'clack-clack' sound. "Give it to us, NOW!"

"I don't know w-what you m-mean...so how do I know if I have it..." Arlene moved backwards. "Please...you're asking the wrong p-person!"

"You asked for it, bitch," he growled and leaped toward her. As his hands reached out for her, Arlene swung the vase as hard as she could.

BAM!

The vase hit him hard on the head. He blinked and shook, but only for a brief moment before he already started for her again. He snarled. His eyes narrowed; and suddenly, his irises got smaller and changed color. Soon, they were no longer green, but red. His lips curled to show teeth that were growing longer and pointed. He held his arms open wide and they also began to lengthen and sprouted coarse dark fur.

Arlene stepped back. Her hands trembled. Her breathing was shallow. She looked at the grinning man. His eyes had turned red too. Where his hands weren't covered by shirt sleeves, they were covered with fur. Dear Lord...her heart beat crazily. What were they?

"Mrs. Fowler," the grinning man looked at her menacingly. "I suggest you give us what we want for your own sake, or I can't promise you, my friend here won't lose his patience."

Arlene moved to the kitchen direction. She had to get one of the knives. "Look gentlemen," she said. "I don't know what you want, but you're asking the wrong person."

The other man, who was now almost covered by dark fur, sniffed. "You asked for it," he said, raising his hand. Just one blow; however, to Arlene it felt like a thousand watt bolt of lightning had smacked her in the face. She trembled and … crash! She fell to the floor. The crystal vase rolled at her side. She clutched the carpet, trying to pull herself away, but something was holding her legs. She screamed, "Help!" She kicked out and screamed again, "Somebody, help!" all the while desperately trying to keep her hold on the carpet.

"Shut up, you bitch!"

"Help...aaaarrgh..." suddenly she was in the air. One of the creatures had a hold of her legs and spinned her like a shot put. Everything was turning faster and faster and then...crash! She hit the sofa and bounced on to the floor. Her head felt heavy. Her breathing was painful and hot. She tried to move her hand, but she couldn't. She heard footsteps coming. She forced her eyes to stay open, but the lids were getting so heavy...

Cold boots touched her chest; one of them kicked her so hard she flipped over on her back. The sound of tearing silk reached her ears as her blouse was torn apart. She turned her face away._ Dear Lord_, she thought._ Help me..._

"Witch!" one of them grunted.

"Now I have a real reason to teach her a lesson," the other said. "Move over. She's mine."

She heard a loud whosh, like something moving incredibly fast had come to a sudden halt.

"No, actually. She's mine," she heard a familiar voice. "Your touch is defiling, and you will die for it."

Soon, everything became even more surreal. She heard wood smashing; thrown against the wall, the sound of broken glass, loud growls and a hideous crackling sound. Then, she heard a howl, answered briefly by a second one. Then, for a moment everything was quiet till a deafening shriek of pain broke the silence. Rain...cold drops of rain fell on her body, her face...sticky cold rain that smelt like fishy water... a pair of piercing blue eyes looked down into hers. Slowly everything began to blur. Cold, she felt cold and numb.

"Drink, Arlene." She heard a voice. "Drink."

She was too weak to refuse, too cold to even realize what she was about to drink. She opened her mouth. A soft touch caressed her hair. "Yes, drink, Arlene."

Then, everything went black.

-4-

Sticky. Sticky and fishy. That was what Arlene felt when she opened her eyes. Something had coated her eyelashes.

The piercing blue eyes that had been the last thing she saw now became the first thing that she saw. Eric. He was kneeling beside her. Something red was dripping from his hair and face. She rubbed her eyes.

Slowly, the voices, the blows and the screams came back without mercy. Those men...those men who had attacked her...they had changed into something...she forced herself to get up and shrieked when she saw the condition of her living room. The furniture was turned upside down. The door was off its hinges. Red color splashed everywhere: on the floor, on the couch, on the table...even on the ceiling. She looked at her hands. "Jesus!" she screamed. They were dripping red as well...she sniffed her hand. "Is this...blood?"

Eric lifted his eyebrow. "Yes, it is." His voice was cold as if it was just something normal for him.

"Where are the men...?" she looked around in panic. She touched her face. She swore one of the men had hit her there. Hard. So hard that she had been thrown to the floor. Why wasn't she feeling it now? She looked at him. "Eric, what's going on? Who are those men?"

Eric sniffed. Those blue eyes blazed with anger. "You used me."

"What?" Arlene's jaws dropped. She forced herself to concentrate. Her confusion was now changing to anger. Her chest became heavy with it. "I don't know what you're talking about! Jesus, I wish somebody had the guts to tell me what's going on! Everybody is acting as if I knew something and they didn't even bother to ask me!" She moved away from him. "The last thing that I need right now is an accusation from a stranger that I used him. I fucked you, yes I FUCKED YOU. It was a fuck, plain and simple; it was not a kind of conspiracy plan to get you into something. I have no further plan or whatsoever to _use you_ in bed or in business, you got that? I don't need this kind of shit, all right? I am a big girl; I can take care of myself. So get out of my house! Leave me alone!"

Eric stood up and walked backward. Not one word came out of his mouth. His eyes looked at her sharply. If looks could kill, she'd been dead by now because his stare was so cold and piercing she could almost feel it stabbing her chest.

"Yes, get the fuck out of my house!" She became angrier. Eric was leaving! No apology, not even a word! He acted as if what she had said hadn't mattered! She grabbed the first thing her hand fell on (it was the crystal vase) and threw it at him.

He continued walking backward and ducked her attack. The vase hit the wall and shattered into a million pieces on the floor. _There goes my most precious memory from that lousy ex-husband of mine! _She cursed herself.

Right at the door, Eric stopped. "Invite me in," he said. "You can't face them by yourself."

"What do you care?"

"I saved you. I care."

Arlene walked towards him and wanted to say the first word that came to her head, which wasn't at all polite, when she stepped on something. She ran into Eric's arms when she saw what's under her feet. It was a human hand! "Sweet Jesus, that...that was...that..."

"Invite me in," Eric held her tightly. "We can't stay outside like this. Your neighbor will be curious, and they will call the police. You don't want them to be here. Invite me in and let me clean you up. I'll tell you everything."

-5-

Reluctantly, Arlene had invited Eric back in. She wondered why he needed an invitation anyway! The door had been kicked down; he could've simply walked right in.

Eric carried her to the bathroom. "You don't want to see the blood and the body parts," that was the excuse. He let the warm water run and helped her remove her clothes, which were sticky with blood.

"Where's the necklace?" she asked when she realized she wasn't wearing it.

"I'd removed it," he said.

"Can you give it back to me please, I don't want to be separated from it."

"Maybe later. It's safe, don't worry."

The water turned pink when she stepped in. As Eric's hand ran up and down her body, washing her clean, it became a darker pink then almost red.

The warm, soapy water and Eric's strong but gentle strokes lulled Arlene out of the reality of the attack and transported her into a faery tale world, where a prince had saved a peasant girl from a danger; where they automatically fell in love and lived happily ever after. Arlene began to wish Eric's ministrations would become more...intimate, so that she could simply forget everything, even only for a while.

"Dear Lord!" she sighed as she brought herself back to the here-and-now. Eric's touch was still gentle but not that tempting anymore. "What is happening to me?"

"You were attacked by werewolves," said Eric.

He had to be joking! She turned to face him and saw that he hadn't. "Did you just say 'werewolves'?"

"Yes."

"Those two men are...were werewolves...like _real_ werewolves?"

"Yes. They're real."

She pulled away from Eric, but the bath tub was too small; she couldn't move far. The rusty colored water splashed out and drew traces down the outside of the tub. "You can't be serious!"

"I am," his voice sounded stern. "Do you smell their blood?"

"Yes, it's fishy."

"Not only that, it's thicker than human blood." Eric poured some water over her head. "Human blood smells and tastes sweet and coppery."

"You sound as if you know a lot about blood. What are you? Vampire or something?" She didn't know whether she should laugh or be frightened. The words she said sounded absurd to her even as she spoke them.

'Click'. Two fangs popped up out of nowhere.

"Dear Lord!" Arlene screamed and jumped out of the bath tub. Eric grabbed her hand. "Let me go! Let me go! Hel...,"

Eric put his hand over her mouth, dragged her to the wall and roughly pushed her against it.

"I won't tell...please...I swear I won't tell anybody...," begged Arlene. "Please, Eric..."

His cold hand ran on her neck, making her skin crawl. "I have been wanting to bite this pretty neck since we made love. Last night I took only a very small amount of blood from the biting. It was not enough," his voice was deep and growling. "I want more."

"Please, Eric...I'll do anything; just let me go...," her knees were weak from fear.

"You will indeed do anything for me," he smirked. "But I won't let you go."

A warm tear wet her cheek as it rolled down. "I'll rather kill myself than to be your slave. Being someone's slave once was more than enough for me."

"A slave...who made you a slave?" his smirk was gone. Now she could hear careful alertness in his voice.

"Don't you know that being married is almost like being a slave?" she said. Selah's exact words, when she told her John had asked her to marry him, came out of her mouth.

He touched her face with the back of his hand. "You're trying to be funny; I could kill you, and you're trying to be funny. Is it any wonder that I choose you?" Then, he kissed her. Again, as last night, his kisses were rough and passionate. The difference was, this time, he didn't hide his fangs. Arlene could feel them brush against the soft flesh of her lips. As last night, she was aroused. Before long, she found herself returning his kisses and wrapping her legs around his hips and felt his cold hands cupping her bare rump. Like two twisted roots, their tongues intertwined each other, greedily probing and impatiently sucking.

"Arlene! Are you in there?" A familiar voice broke them apart. "Oh my god!"

Eric put her down. Within a blink of an eye, he was gone. Then, Arlene heard somebody screaming from the living room.

"Aaaaaaaaaargh!"

John. Arlene tried to catch her breath. John was here. She snatched up a towel, wrapped it around herself and after Eric.

On the wall beside the door was John. Eric had him by the neck, pinned against the wall as if he were nailed to it, and as if he weighed nothing. Eric's fangs were out completely, and his eyes blazed with anger.

-6-

**The Haugr  
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Arlene didn't feel comfortable in having both Eric and John in the bedroom at the same time, but she didn't have any other choice. The bedroom was the only place, which didn't get wrecked during the fight or covered in werewolf body parts and viscera.

She put on a t-shirt and a jeans, and then she asked them in.

John rubbed his neck and stood back from Eric, making sure he was well beyond Eric's reach. He looked at the bed, which was still messy, and shot Arlene a narrow look.

Arlene knew John was about to say something nasty. She was not going to give him that satisfaction. They are divorced now; she can do whatever she damn pleased! She turned her face away and sat on the rumpled bedding.

Eric stood at the door, talking on the phone in a foreign language.

"Where did you get this guy?" John hissed. "Look, I know that you're angry with me, and you want to get back to me by bedding a younger guy, but Jesus, Arlene! I've never thought you would take up with a butcher!"

"Oh, please! I am not angry with you, and he's not a butcher!"

"Not a butcher? What do you call that?" he pointed at the living room. "He was going to kill me!"

John was right. If she hadn't come in time and told Eric who John was, he might have ended up as dead as the other two.

"I will, if you don't shut up," said Eric without turning around.

"You see what I mean?"

"Psst!" Arlene shot him a sharp look. Eric was serious. She could tell from his tone.

Eric turned around; John stepped back further. "My assistants will come to clean up your place," he said. "You'd better come with me."

"Wait a minute, pal..." John's sentence was cut off as Eric suddenly seemed to blink into place before him. His face was looming scant inches away. Arlene covered her mouth to prevent herself from shrieking.

"Yes, John?" Eric's voice was low but intimidating.

"W-where are you taking her?"

"My place."

"W-where?"

"You don't want to know."

"B-but...," again, his sentence abruptly ended as their eyes met. "I...I've got to know. She's my wife."

"Your ex-wife," snapped Arlene.

"Oh, you know what I mean!" said John. "You don't want to go with_... him!"_

"As a matter of fact," Arlene raised her chin, "I do." She might not have wanted to go off with Eric before John's reaction, but now it seemed like a damn fine idea. He was acting as if they were still married, and she couldn't stand it!

Eric smirked. "Who else knew you were here, Arlene?"

"Nobody. I only called him," she pointed at John.

"I didn't tell anybody, I swear...," suddenly he hit his cheek. "Oh, my god!"

"What?" asked Arlene. "Don't tell me you told that bitch!"

"She was there...and she heard the conversation...you...no! It can't be...!"

"Whom did you tell?" asked Eric. The calmness in his voice somehow sacred Arlene. Something in that utter lack of emotion made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end.

"My secretary...I mean...my girlfriend, Debbie Pelt."

"Debbie Pelt from the Pelt and Leeds family?" asked Eric.

"Yeah...how did you know?"

"You told her about this, without thinking you might have put Arlene in danger?"

"Listen, _young_ _man_," John emphasized the word _young man_ as if by saying it, he stood to gain some extra power over him. But when he saw Eric straighten his shoulders and draw his body to its full height, his face turned pale. There were some good five inches differences between them; it made John look small. Small and frightened. "Debbie is my girlfriend," John continued. His voice was not as certain as before. "So when she asked me where I was going, I told her I was going to your place to help you get out of town."

"Idiot! You fucking idiot!" Arlene yelled at him.

"Look, Honey..."

"Honey me one more time, I swear I'll ask Eric to kill you!"

Eric lifted his eyebrow and gave John a look that drained the last bit of color from his face.

"Honestly, Arlene, I didn't know. You know I never meant to hurt you. Please, believe me."

"They're here," Eric turned around.

"Who?"

"My assistants."

By assistants, did he mean vampires?

As if John had known what she thought, he said, "There are more like him?" He said the word 'him' softly, almost unheard, as if he was afraid the word itself could harm him somehow.

"You don't want to know," said Eric, and Arlene agreed. She didn't want to know, either.

Eric's assistants were a woman and two men. The woman dressed up in all-leather suits; a huge cross pendant was dangling on her neck. Bright red lipstick added a splash of color to her face. She was as pale as Eric, and her attitude was just as cold. Behind her were two men. The man on her right was an Asian. His bare pallid arms showed tattoos down their length. The word 'Yakuza' was the first thing that came to Arlene's mind, but she pressed her lips together tightly. On her left was an American, stood almost entirely covered in a white plastic bio-hazard overall. The only thing that saved him from looking like a giant condom was his bright brown eyes. They were now looking at Arlene with a sharp look of an eagle.

"I want this done by morning," said Eric. "You're in charge, Bobby. Take as many men as you need. Clean this building up."

"Yes, Sir," said the man in the bio-hazard suit.

"Find Hervaux. Tonight."

"Yes, Sir," Bobby nodded and moved a few steps away and flipped open a phone. "Bellefleur, it's me..."

"Where are you going, Eric?" asked the woman.

Eric mentioned a place that sounded like 'how-ger' to Arlene.

"You've got to be kidding me," said the woman, putting her hands on her hips. "You and the humans?"

"Only the woman."

"What do you mean 'only the woman'?" asked John.

"What do you want me to do with this idiot?" asked the woman again.

Walking away, Eric said, "Do what you want."

Arlene followed him.

"What do you mean? Eric...hey...Mr..for god sake, what is his name again?"John sputtered.

"He didn't tell you?" the woman snorted. "Well then, it's your lucky day, Sweetheart..."

"Arlene, where are you going?"

"Where are you taking me?" Arlene walked fast beside Eric.

"You'll see." Eric took her hips.

Arlene felt she herself moving faster and faster, almost like she wasn't touching ground. She looked down, and she...wasn't, she was...floating. "You...we...we're flying!" she screamed. The ground and her vision blurred, and then she lost track of everything but the wind rushing past and the feeling of flight.

It was incredible!

-7-

The Haugr, as Eric spelled it, was a hole deep in the ground in the middle of something which looked like an abandoned lot. Arlene could only see rubble mounded in front of her, which seemed to have a gate in midst of the debris. On either side of the gate were neon lights, which illuminated a sign reading;…"

**Danger**

**This location is deemed unsafe for Human Occupancy**

There were additional sentences written in smaller letters, which Arlene couldn't read.

An old nuclear bunker was the first thing that came to Arlene's mind when she saw Eric push a round cement door.

Eric turned on the light. "This is my home," he said, as they stepped down the ladder. "I sleep here during the day."

"It looks like a bunker to me."

"It is a mound."

"A mound...like a burial mound?"

"Yes."

"Are we inside a tomb?" instinctively, Arlene grabbed Eric's arm.

"Yes," Eric tapped her hand, as if he wanted to tell her everything was okay. "In my language, it is called _haugr."_

"Your language...which is...?"

"Old Norse. I am a Viking."

Arlene would've burst into laughter, if she hadn't covered her mouth in time. A Viking...in leather jacket and blue jeans. Well, you don't see that everyday.

"I am. I am more than 1000 years old."

Arlene stopped walking. "You aren't serious."

"I am a vampire. Vampires live forever. One thousand years old isn't that exceptional."

_Surely, he doesn't believe that, _thought Arlene. _He doesn't look his age. _Yeah, right. As if she saw hordes of thousand year old men running around on daily basis.

"There are things that you don't know, Arlene Fowler. Open your mind. You can learn a lot from me if you do."

A gray door was at the end of the ladder. Eric entered a code on the alarm system's keypad, and the door opened with a soft sound.

Arlene's jaws dropped as the lights came up and showed her the room beyond the door. It was a huge, bright room. It looked damn cozy for a hole in the ground, and it had a big bed at the corner, a living room set, a closet, a small table with a record player on it, and another door, which seemed to lead to the bathroom. The only item that made it different from any room she had ever seen was a brown wooden coffin with its lid standing open. The interior was covered with dark red velvet.

She was at the lair of a vampire. She couldn't help but wonder: how many other women had Eric brought here, and how many of them survived to see the next day?

Eric took off his jacket and threw it on the floor. "You wait here," he said. He didn't want to tell her that he was afraid somebody might have broken in, did he? Who's on the right mind would have broken into the lair of a vampire anyway?

Eric walked across the room...no; he leaped across the room, opened the door and disappeared behind it. When he opened the door, he wasn't wearing his t-shirt anymore. His hair was dripping wet. "There was...blood in my hair," he said.

And it bothered him. Jesus! Tearing apart werewolves and spreading their blood and body parts all over the place was okay for him, as long as the blood didn't ruin his hair!

He reached out for her. Arlene wanted to get away, but it was too late. Before she knew it, she was already on the bed with Eric's weigh holding her down as he pushed her t-shirt up over her breasts.

_I have to buy some time, _she thought. _I have to find a way to get out of here alive. Who knows what this vainly vampire is capable of!_

Suddenly, Eric rolled over. "You're afraid of me."

"No, I am not."

Eric sniffed. His fangs were out. "You should be. Every vampire sees humankind as no more than a source of food."

"You are not an _average Joe _kind of vampire," Arlene turned on her side. She realized Eric could sense her feeling. She was afraid of him, but she may not show it. She had to be able to convince him that she truly enjoyed his company. "You chose me, remember?" she forced herself to smile. "I don't want to think that I was chosen by _an ordinary Joe vampire._"

He touched her face, grabbed her neck and kissed her. Rough. When he lifted his mouth from hers, Arlene saw blood at the corner. Her blood. Arlene touched her lips. They were swollen from the bite. Strangely, they didn't seem to hurt at all.

"My blood is working," he said. "I can feel your emotion, the reaction of your body and even your thoughts; and you don't feel pain as keenly anymore."

Arlene bit her lower lips to prevent it from shaking. Her skin crawled. His blood...he had given her his blood..and it made him able to sense her feelings...as if she hadn't had enough problems already! "Does it last forever?" she wanted to know.

"No. It will wear off gradually."

"Why did you feed me your blood?"

"The werewolves had almost killed you by the time I arrived. They broke your skull, and one of them was about to twist your neck. I didn't have any other choice. Had I not given you my blood, you would have been dead by now."

Why did he sound as if he regretted it?

"The blood of every vampire is precious; it shouldn't be given easily." he said. "I normally don't do this."

"Why did you?"

"I have reasons to keep you alive. You're a witch."

"Why do people keep saying that?" Arlene sat. "I am not a witch!"

"You wear the pendant of the triple moon, the necklace of the high priestess. You are a witch," he touched her hair. "My witch."

"Dear Lord!" Arlene covered her mouth. "The necklace doesn't belong to me...well, it is, but it doesn't exactly...oh, how to say it? Somebody gave it as a present."

"Arlene, look at me." Eric's voice sounded low and pressed. When she looked into his blue eyes, he said, "Come here and kiss me."

Arlene wanted to say no; however, she pressed herself into him and gave him a light kiss.

"Again." Laying back on the bed, he said, "Do it longer and use your tongue this time."

It didn't matter how much she wanted to push him away or to refuse his order, she did exactly the opposite. As if her body had a will of her own and didn't want to follow the order that came from her brain. She straddled his stomach, pinned his hands down to the bed, pried open his lips with her tongue and kissed him deeply. She even nipped a little!

Eric's face was pink when she let him go. His fangs were out, and a smirk was at the corner of his mouth."You aren't a witch."

"I told you I am not. Just now...why did I kiss you...?"

"I glamoured you to do it. You would do as I told without being able to refuse...,"

Plaack! Her hand smacked him across the face before she could stop herself. Eric didn't move an inch. "Son of a bitch!" she swung herself off his body and off the bed. "I told you, if you make me a slave, I'll kill myself!"

Suddenly, Eric was already in front of her, hovering over her with his fangs aimed at her neck.

"You don't scare me!" she screamed in frustration. "I am leaving!"

"You like kissing me." He touched his lip and smirked. "You bit me, even when I hadn't told you so. Admit it."

"Fuck you!"

"You already did. More than once."

Arlene was about to move away from him, but he grabbed her hips and bumped her body into his. Hard. Those powerful hands prevented her from moving. The more she tried, the tighter his grip became. She cursed herself. Even in her anger, she couldn't deny that she liked having that rigid firmness pressed against her. As a matter of fact, she kinda enjoyed it. The memory of last night flashed in front of her eyes; made her heart race and create a familiar warm feeling down below.

But Eric smirked and let her go. "You can't leave, even if I let you walk away. We are far from everywhere. First, you have to cross an old cemetery. Then, you have to walk miles away to reach the main road, and even then, there's not much traffic. You'd be lucky to find a ride before nightfall. You'd be without food and water, wandering alone in dark. Werewolves are not the only ones that live in the woods that line that road..."

"Okay, okay, I get it!" Arlene said. "I knew I shouldn't have gotten involved with you!" she crossed to the coach and sat down. "I should've followed my instincts, I should've kicked you out of my house when I had a chance. I didn't even know why I took you home at the first place." she sighed. "You didn't glamour me, did you?"

Eric looked offended. "I do not need to glamour women to make them to have sex with me."

"You glamoured me to kiss you some minutes ago!"

"That was different," Eric frowned, as if he was trying to convince himself as well.

Arlene snorted. "I don't see how! You made me kiss you, even though I didn't want to. How do I know that I wasn't glamoured last night?"

"Because you'd _feel _the difference," he hissed the word _feel _so sharp Arlene could almost feel it cut her face. His eyes were narrow. Clearly, he was angry. Her accusation seemed to offend his pride. "Last night, you wanted me. There was no mistake about it. Many women have buried their nails in my back, and you belong with one of those, whose marks last long enough that made me want to taste them again. The lines you made last night might have faded away, but I can still feel your passion. I am even sure; if I work on you right now, we _will _have sex as much as you've been wanting it since some minutes ago!"

Arlene felt her face hot.

"When you kissed me some minutes ago, you tried to refuse me," Eric continued. "You felt it and wanted to fight it, but you couldn't.

"What I did to you wasn't a good thing, I admit; however, I had to know whether you're a witch or not. I want to know whom I am going to deal with."

"Did you have to glamour me?""

"Yes, I did. Witches are not easy to be glamoured. They are strong; some of them are even so strong that only very few and very old vampires are able to do it. However, as we now see; you aren't a witch."

"Couldn't you just ask?"

Eric smirked. "And miss the fun?"

Arlene swore she would explode. She jumped up again and moved back across the room to sit on the edge of the bed. If she ever got her hands on Selah's throat, she swore she would squeeze the life out of her!

Eric walked towards her and stood in front of her. He touched her hair softly. "You have the glorious red hair of my people. I wanted to ignore you last night, but the color of your hair reminded me of the old days. After you've lived as long as I have, you crave any small things that takes you back to the life you once had, when everything was still...normal."

His soft voice calmed her down a little. "Why were you at the hotel, Eric? Were you hunting?"

"No, I wasn't." He knelt down in front of her. "What I am about to tell you could cost you your life, and I'll be honest with you; the life you have known till now is going to change one way or the other. If you feel you aren't able to keep it to yourself, I'll be forced to wipe your memory."

"My life is changed already," Arlene looked straight into those piercing blue eyes. "I was attacked by werewolves, and I am talking to a vampire. It's either a nightmare or I've been living with a tunnel vision and taking the world for granted. I was a blind fool who believed I had a perfect marriage till it was too late. I don't want to live like that anymore."

Eric's lips moved, forming a line that Arlene wanted to believe was a smile. He usually smirked or snorted derisively. A smile would be a lovely change. But the possible smile disappeared as he got up and sat beside her. "I was meeting a woman, who had information about something that many vampires have been looking for."

"What is it?"

"A product from Japan, an artificial blood that's said to perfectly replicates human blood. It is said to look like blood and taste like blood as well."

"There are already artificial blood products in the market. What is so special about this one?"

"Do you know how the artificial blood works?"

Arlene shook her head. One of her clients was a small pharmacy company, but she never had the idea to ask them any chemical problems or definitions.

Eric took her hand. "Artificial blood," his fingers started trailing on her skin, "has a function to transport oxygen and carbon dioxide only. It will temporarily replace the function of the real blood till the body is capable," his fingers were now on her upper arm, he lifted the t-shirt sleeves, kissed that part of arms and continued trailing, "of producing more red blood cells. However, it doesn't contain minerals, nutrients and other things that the human body needs. That is why the current artificial blood is called an oxygen carrier. Because that is what it is; it's nothing more than an oxygen carrier."

Their eyes met. Those were the bluest eyes Arlene had ever seen. Twinkling and sparkling like the sea water on early morning. Somehow, the conversation about blood or its replication brought up something inside Eric; something that Arlene hadn't seen before. A passion, a spirit of life.

"The new product that I've heard...," his face was getting nearer, whilst his fingers now were on her shoulder. A soft touched on her neck sent shiver down to her back. "...was something better. It will be able to replace the blood completely. It contains glucose, mineral ions, food...everything that blood has. They say, it also replicates real blood's most vital functions."

"Which are?"

He pushed her softly to the bed and threw himself beside her. His cold lips were wet when they touched her neck. "Stopping the body from bleeding out and creating immune defense."

Arlene touched his face. "You don't have to drink from humans anymore if the product is on the market."

He didn't react to her sentence. Instead, he said, "The company that produces it will be rich and worshiped by the vampires." His hands were now down to her hips. Arlene sighed as he removed her t-shirt. "Or, they will be hunted by the vampires."

"Why do you have to drink human blood?" Arlene forced herself to concentrate, which was damn hard to do; now that Eric started kissing her body. His kisses were no different from the ones he had given last night. They were passionate and rough. Arlene was sure that she would have new bruises by tomorrow. "Can't you drink animal blood? What is so special about human blood anyway?"

"Do you know anything about blood components?" Eric sounded annoyed. His hands, which were busy removing her bra, stopped moving.

"Well...yes, red cell, white cell...that's about it."

"I can give you some books to read. Now, shut up!" He finished his sentences with a bite on her shoulder blade. Arlene gasped. The bite wasn't as painful as last night, but it was the same arousing. When Eric managed to remove her bra completely, and his hands were softly crawling to find her breasts, Arlene sighed. She felt her body screaming for more, and she was about to answer Eric's touch when her eyes caught the glimpse of the brown wooden coffin.

_I have to stop this, _she thought. _I may not be carried away!_

"Which side are you on?" again, she forced herself to concentrate.

Eric didn't reply. The sound of his kisses on her back and his strong squeeze on her breasts were clear enough for Arlene. His mind was not on the subject anymore, or he didn't want to tell her.

Arlene pulled herself away and sat. "Which side are you on, Eric?" she repeated.

"I can't say yet. I have to know the whole story before I make any decision."

Arlene retrieved her t-shirt and pulled it back on. She got down from the bed and walked to the door. "Is this place safe for me?" she tried to change the subject. The conversation about blood and Eric's reaction, which was ambiguous, made her somehow uncomfortable. It was like she had been to a strange and unfamiliar territory, and it scared her. "I mean, does it have enough oxygen?"

Eric lay on his side. He rested his chin on his hand and looked at her in disbelief. "Yes, without air circulation, the space would have an unpleasant odor, but I don't have any food or drinking water."

Food would be the last thing Arlene worried about."How can you tell the time? You don't have any clock here."

"My body will know. I won't be able to move when the sun comes out."

"That means, I can do whatever I want when you are sleeping."

"Yes."

"You're not afraid?"

"Should I be?" A strange blaze was in those blue eyes. It was short, but it was sharp enough to make her blood run cold.

Arlene sighed. "No."

They fell silent.

"How did you know about Debbie Pelt?" asked Arlene after a while.

"We've met on some several occasions."

"And the Leeds...who are they?"

"Pelt's cousins and associates."

Quiet again.

"The woman you were about to meet...who is she?" again, Arlene was the one, who broke the silence.

"I don't know. I was told to be at the La Fleur de Lys hotel around eight o'clock. I was also told to wear the ring and the green suits. I was only to wait, she would come to me. At first, I thought you were her, until you told me that you thought I was somebody else."

"Told by whom?"

No answer.

Whoever had sent him have been somebody important; somebody whom Eric respected. "But you didn't leave." Arlene decided to not to pursue the answer. Eric didn't look like somebody who liked being preyed.

Eric stepped off the bed and came to her. "You were hot and ready; my kind of woman."

Arlene felt her face hot. "And you forgot your appointment."

"I didn't. We had sat at the hotel lounge for more than an hour, remember?"

Arlene nodded.

"I watched every female guest who entered the hotel. None of them looked at me with any hint of recognition."

"How would you know...if they knew who you were?"

He lifted his eyebrow, and Arlene felt stupid. With his looks, it must be very easy for him to get any attention or make any woman or man notice him! After so long, he'd be easily able to differentiate between causal and recognizing stares.

"After I had left your place," he said, "I returned to the hotel to check the videos from the security camera, and I didn't find anything."

"How the hell were you able to obtain the vid...you glamoured the security personnel."

"I tend to believe you were the one I was about to meet."

"What? Look, Eric. I told you the truth. I was supposed to meet a man named Viktor, who worked for an escort service. It was supposed to be a fun night for me, and despite the fact that you were not Viktor, it was a fun night! Besides, I didn't know anything about this new blood replacement product until now."

"The words on the street is the maker of this new product has an American lawyer."

"Do you know how many lawyers are there in America? Really, Eric, you don't want to know. Besides, I don't have a Japanese client!"

"They have a company here; a small one that nobody will notice because they don't want to attract the attention of the wrong people."

"There are many small pharmacy companies in the country," Arlene tried to calm herself down. She would've known if her client had such an important innovation. She would've known. "We are not the only one..."

"I know one lawyer who has a direct connection with werewolves, witches and shape-shifters," Eric was getting closer, "and has a small pharmacy company as a client."

Arlene looked at him. Her jaw dropped as she realized what he meant. "Me?"

"No. It's your friend, Selah Pumphreys."

Arlene pondered over those words. Selah. It was always Selah. The beautiful, wild Selah. As long as she had known her, which had been since childhood, Selah had always been into some kinds of trouble. She had always managed to get out of it before it was too late. However, Arlene felt, this time the trouble was far too deep for her, for both of them, to get out of.

"Are you sure, Eric? I know Selah has gotten into a lot of messes...but...but...this...," she couldn't find the words to describe what Selah had dragged her into.

Eric touched her hair and softly kissed her forehead. "It will be morning soon. I'll tell you more when I wake up." he said. "Come, lay down with me." Then, he smiled. The coldness on his face broke like the snow in the early spring being pushed by small buds of lilies and somehow it made him look sympathetic. "It will be the first time in centuries that I have a human in my bed."

Strangely, Arlene didn't feel flattered because of it. She felt even worse when she saw him climbing into the coffin.

Eric kissed her softly as she laid in his arms. "Sleep tight, my human."

-8-

**Bobby Burnham  
><strong>

Arlene woke up with a heavy head. She'd thought, she wouldn't be able to sleep. Laying beside her was a predator, god knows what he might do! It was only normal if she was afraid to close her eyes! But that's not what had happened. On the contrary, she had fallen asleep as soon as she laid down her head, and when she opened her eyes, she found herself cuddling him!

She got down from the coffin and sat on the sofa.

Selah had planned the meeting all along. She or somebody she knew had called Eric to come to the hotel, and Selah herself had tricked her into it. Arlene didn't know what kind of information Selah had on Eric, but it looked like she had managed to say the right things to him, or to _give _him the right thing, namely her.

Arlene looked around the room. Soon, the world that she had known would change. Soon, vampires and many other creatures, which had only been stories told in books, songs and movies, would be among mankind. What would she do when the time came? Would she accept them without question, or would she be among those who were against them?

In that coffin laid a vampire, sleeping and unable to move. She had been with him only for a day and two nights, but her world was already turned upside down. She had had rough and heated sex, been chased down from her own office, attacked by werewolves and god knows what happened to her ex-husband!

Obviously, they'd be spending some more time together, and she dreaded imagining what could happen to her.

Arlene walked to him and watched him sleeping. A Viking, he said. A one-thousand-year old Viking. He must have seen and done a lot in his unnatural life, and yet he couldn't make up his mind whether he wanted to continue living in a hole or openly, side by side with humans.

His blond hair spread around on the dark red velvet material that covered the interior of the coffin. Heh! Even in his sleep, he was alert. His hands were crossed over his chest; the right hand was on the top and formed a ball...no, it looked like it was holding something. A sword, maybe?

Her world was changed, indeed. For two years she had ignored what happened out there. Selah had tried to fix her up, introducing her to many men, but nobody had been interesting enough for her; or maybe it had been her own situation that made her feel uncomfortable with dating. She had been married to John for ten years. For ten years, she had slept with the same man, night after night. She didn't know how to start again.

Accepting Selah's gift was a way to learn the dating system again. She thought, she would have fun and not need to think what to do, since she would be spending time with a professional; a man who was paid to satisfy a woman. And she did. She had a good time and she was satisfied, both out and in bed.

Arlene sighed. Except for one thing, Eric isn't a gigolo; he isn't even human.

Well, perhaps part of him, still. He had thrown his clothes on the floor; only God knows what other slobby habits he had. She picked up the leather jacket. Like many other stylish men, his jacket was from a well-known designer. She sniffed the jacket. His cologne too. It smelt good; it was likely expensive.

She felt something hard in the jacket's pocket touch her cheek. After pushing aside the question whether she should check it or not, she put her hand inside the pocket and took out the contents: an iPhone and her necklace. She had them in her hand and let the jacket fall to the floor.

Arlene looked at the iPhone. It looked like Eric was a fashion victim through and through. Not only he owned designer clothes, he also owned the latest fashion item in the market, like this iPhone. Selah had the same one. She told Arlene the latest iPhone is a must have telephone in the market. It can be used for sending messages, taking pictures, sending e-mail even surfing in the web. 'Can it also be used for making phone calls?' Arlene remembered teasing her.

Arlene sighed. It seemed, fashion victims weren't always exclusively human. She put the iPhone in her trousers pocket and turned to the coffin. The necklace was made from silver. People said silver could harm vampires. If she put the silver around Eric's neck and strangled him with it, he would die. And then, she could leave this hole. John would be able to help her find a way to leave the town or the country and be free of this insane vampire business!

Just one pull, and it would be the end of Eric Northman.

She walked toward the coffin. Yes, just one pull, and she would be free.

Her hands were trembling as she stood beside the coffin and leaned over the side. Eric slept peacefully. His face showed no wrinkles or signs of aging. His lips were pink and the long lashes around his eyes made him look like a young man who didn't have much life experience yet.

Arlene sighed. Those pink lips had left traces all over her body; traces that made her body tingle just by remembering how he had made them. And the hands that were crossed on his chest had touched her, aroused her and awoken the old feelings in her.

She looked at the necklace one more time. Still, he's a vampire. She didn't know what or how he would react when he woke up hungry. She couldn't take the risk.

She held the chain with both hands and was about to put it around Eric's neck when the iPhone made a noise. She took it out and looked at the screen. The e-mail icon had a red "1" beside it. Under the icon something was written in a language she didn't understand.

She closed her eyes. Should she continue with her plan or open the e-mail? She looked at Eric. Heh, Eric is dead already, he can wait to be dead again. The e-mail might contain something important, something that would need Eric's presence.

She touched the mailbox icon, which opened his inbox. A new email had arrived..

_They got the package. A SS brought JH in. He's wounded._

_Bobby Burnham._

They got the package...what package? The blood drinks? Selah? What was a SS? JH...JH...Jackson Hervaux? He's wounded?

"You should thank Bobby for this, Eric," she murmured and put the necklace around her neck and walked away from the coffin. She knew she had blown her chance to kill Eric. She could only hope she wouldn't regret it later.

-9-

"Are you hungry?" was the first thing Eric said when he woke up. He jumped out of the coffin and walked to the bathroom.

"No. I have no appetite."

"You should eat," he said. "You will need a lot of food when you stay with me and a lot of vitamins too, especially vitamin B12."

Arlene bit her lips. It is said Vitamin B12 is good for red blood cell production. He wanted her to be his private personal blood bank.

Eric turned around, smirking. "It's just an idea, Arlene. You will get something for return, naturally."

"Really? What is it? Protection?"

"That and sex, a lot of sex."

Great, she wasn't only becoming his private personal blood bank, but also his private personal sperm bank.

"Have a bath with me, Arlene! And take that goddamn necklace off!"

Arlene walked to the bathroom. She had to talk to him about the message from Bobby Burnham. When she saw Eric standing naked beside the bath tub, she forced herself not to gasp. Dear Lord, if Michaelangelo lived today, he would make another David based on Eric's figure! Every drop of light that fell on his body emphasized the already good figure, made it even perfect and somehow...inhuman.

She forced herself to stay unimpressed as strong as she could until he turned around and faced her. It really should be illegal for a man to run around waving a huge loaded gun like that.

"You're afraid of the necklace," she said, trying to be as cool as she could.

Eric came to her and stood so closely that if Arlene moved at all, she would be able to touch his cock. "No, but you would only put yourself in danger. The werewolves, they are afraid of the necklace. They hate and love the moon because their lives are influenced by it. That triple moon pendant carries a strong power over them. By wearing it, you declare war on them."

Arlene swallowed her spit. "And you vampires hate and love the silver?"

He snorted. His fangs were out. "I don't have any feelings for or against things. But yes, I can be harmed with silver. Make sure that you really want to harm me if you put that silver necklace on me. You might not like my reaction."

"Bobby Burnham sent you an e-mail," she said, changing the subject. She took out the iPhone and gave it to Eric. "Something about a package, an SS and JH."

Eric took the iPhone and touched its screen. Arlene didn't know what he was doing because he did it at a speed that couldn't be followed by naked eyes. His ass moved teasingly when he walked away from her. He had small buns, but Arlene knew how smooth and at the same time hard they were. "They don't teach manners anymore these days? I could kill you for your bad manner." He put the iPhone on the top of a small cabinet beside the bathroom sinks.

"Don't threaten me if you don't mean to carry it out, Eric."

In the blink of an eye, Eric was already in front of her again. His mouth was wide open; his fangs hovered inches above her jugular. The silver necklace seemed not to bother him at all. He sniffed, straightened his body and smiled. "And you Arlene Fowler, never ever threaten me again."

Arlene's blood ran cold. That smile and the lights in his eyes scared the hell out of her. He looked like one of those psychopathic people that some prosecutors had sent away to jails. She raised her head and prayed that Eric didn't notice her fear. "Good, now we know each other's boundaries."

Eric touched her face. "Still want to accompany me into the bath?"

"Who said I wanted to?"

However, she ended up in the bath tub without the necklace. She even didn't want to think about her reservations once Eric started kissing her and biting her here and there. When he pulled her close and pulled back the hair that covered her neck, she closed her eyes. In any second, those fangs would be sunk in her flesh and...

The iPhone rang. Then, a voice mail.

"It's me, Sir, Burnham. We have a situation here, Sir. Pam is trying to handle it, but I am afraid, she won't be able to keep it much longer. Chow is down, repeat, Chow is down, Sir! The werewolves have penetrated the perimeter and I am not sure if I can protect the package any longer. Pam said she saw some familiar faces from Mississippi...what?"

Loud noises filled in the background.

"I think you'd better come in, Sir."

The iPhone went dead.

Eric jumped out of the bath tub. "It has begun earlier than I thought," he said. He sounded concerned.

"What?" Arlene climbed out.

"The conflict of interests," suddenly Eric sounded like one of the lawyers in her previous office. "The minute you are out of the Haugr, you will enter a new world, Arlene. The world you knew doesn't exist anymore. You will have to make a choice, to accept our existence and rights to live among you, human; or to be against it. I hope you will make a wise decision when the time comes. In the meantime, it has been a pleasure knowing you, Mrs. Fowler."

'Click', Eric's fangs were out. His eyes looked at her wildly. Arlene stepped back, this didn't seem like another empty threat. He was actually snarling at her.

Arlene screamed on the top of her lungs as Eric leaped and grabbed her. Her scream was echoed by the bathroom walls, before silence finally fell.


	2. Jason Stackhouse

**Author's Note: **This chapter is beta'd by **Viking Rule.** Thanks, Luv!

**Tid-bits: **Anton Yelchin (the Wiktor-Wiktor boy from Star Trek - my inspiration for the name Viktor) plays in a remake of Fright Night, my very first vampire movie. It scared the hell out of me when I watched it back then. For a long time, Chris Sarandon was my ideal vampire. Dark, handsome, and mysterious... until Max Schreck came along. Anyway, just for fun, I think it's worth to see Anton and Colin (Farrell) in Fright Night!

Chapter Two

**Jason Stackhouse  
><strong>

Blood. Everywhere. On the ceiling, on the sofa, on her hand. Blood, blood, blood.

Arlene opened her eyes and screamed. She grabbed the first thing that she saw (which was a pillow in a black silk cover). She held the pillow close to her chest and desperately hoped that her heart would beat slower.

Vampire, werewolf, witches... no, they didn't exist. It was only two days of pranks created by Selah. No, no...she looked around. Where was she?

She was in a room, on a bed with black silk sheet. On her left side was a rough cut closet, on her right was a kind of small minibar. Right in front of her was a huge flat screen TV with a home sound systems. Some paces away from the bed was a window. The sunlight went through the window and fell to the floor, created shadow from the curtain motive that covered the glass. A woman, a man and a unicorn... or perhaps a deer.

Good. She wasn't in that hell anymore...but if she wasn't in that hell anymore, and she was definitely not at home...where was she? And did it mean those two days were real?

She threw away the pillow and touched her neck. Her heart sank as her hand touched something cold around her neck. Holly's necklace was there. So, it wasn't a prank...moment, ah-ah, it might still be a prank if...she lifted her t-shirt... good, no bruises. Thank, Jesus! As much as she enjoyed having sex with Eric or Viktor or whoever that son of a bitch was... she couldn't, didn't want to imagine that what he had told her was true.

Selah! Aaargh, if she could lay her hand on her neck, she would break it! She swore!

"Ehm...Arlene...Mrs. Fowler...,"

Arlene leapt from the bed. A pair of beautiful blue eyes were staring at her. For a second she thought it was Eric, but when her senses returned to her, she knew, it wasn't. He couldn't be. It's bright day and vampires couldn't walk around during the day.

"Mr. Stackhouse?" said Arlene, almost screaming. She's at Jason Stackhouse's place - her client, who had been found naked and suffering from 'amnesia' (he claimed not to remember a thing on the previous night)? Dear Lord, this was worse than she thought. What if Jason Stackhouse did something to her and he claimed not remember (again)?

"I ain't do nothing to you, Ma'am, swear to God!" he lifted his hand.

"How did I get here?" she asked.

"You were brought here by …. a friend."

"Who?"

He moved his head, scratched his wavy dark blond hair, but nothing came out.

"Who, Jason? I am still your lawyer! If you involved in any of this, I swear...,"

"Sam Merlotte."

"What? Sam Merlotte? My secretary...?"

"Yes, Ma'am...and I ain't lyin'!"

"You and Sam...are friends?"

"Since he paid my bail, yeah...look Ma'am...he came here early in the morning and asked me to keep an eye on you."

"Where are we? This is not your apartment, is it?"

"No, it's my Gran's place...but she ain't live here anymore. It's my sister's now, and she's out of town for some days."

"And you didn't tell me? We're supposed to always stay contact, otherwise it won't look good if the court finds out that I am unaware of your whereabouts."

"I ain't trying to run away, Ma'am. I just need time to think. I want to know what happened to me. I feel...lost, if you know what I mean."

Yes, she knew what he meant. She also wanted to know what was going on. "How did it all start?" she thought, but it seemed it was an out loud thought because Jason answered her,

"I don't know, Ma'am. I remembered coming home late from work about four months ago. It was cold and I was hungry. So I thought, I'd take a short cut through Hotshot woods...well, it's not exactly woods, but you know...,"

"Yes, I know." Hotshot woods were actually just a park in the Hotshot area, a suburban area on the west side of the city. It is a nice place for little picnics, or simply to lay down on the grass and read some books. _But not in the night time_, people said. _There are strange creatures __that appear__ in the park, especially during the full moon._ Some claimed to see panthers, and the other claimed to see wolves. Yeah, right, in the middle of the city... panthers, wolves...

"I remember...you have to promise not to laugh, Ma'am...,"

"I promise."

"I remember...seeing a panther."

'Et tu, Jason?' was the first sentence that popped up in her head, but her own experience of being attacked by werewolves (at least that's what Eric told her) stopped her abruptly. "And?"

"I ran... I remember seeing it jump right at me, and then next thing I know, I was at the hospital. I had been attacked by a drunkard and found by a man named Mel Hart. The doctors said that I was lucky to be found by Mel, otherwise I'd be dead already.

"Since then it's happened. I lost my memory quite often. And it's getting weird... I can't touch silver anymore." He showed me his palms. There were some nasty burnt on those palms.

"What happened?"

"I don't know. I wanted to clean Gran's silver candle holders and suddenly, I got these." He rubbed his nose. "If you ask me, Mrs. Fowler, I prefer to be locked up. Because I don't want to run around doing things I might regret and don't remember anything about it."

Arlene held her breath. If he was wounded because of having contact with silver or silver covered stuff...could it be that he was... a werewolf? She grabbed her necklace. Suddenly she hoped that Eric was there. She knew it was crazy, but somehow she felt she could trust him. He had had a chance to kill her – sucked her dry or did whatever vampires normally did, but he didn't. He didn't even bite her on the neck. She didn't know what he had done to her in the bathroom, and frankly, she didn't want to know, at least not right now; but she knew, Eric didn't hurt her.

The door was suddenly open and a head popped up. "Oh, I didn't know you were having company." A man in his twenties, wearing jeans, a bright orange t-shirt and a jean jacket. His hair was black, and it seemed he misunderstood how you used hair gel, because the amount that he put on his head, Arlene believed could be used for at least a week or more. He had long eye-lashes and light brown eyes, so light that they looked yellowish. Somehow, they reminded her of the eyes of a cat.

"She's my lawyer," said Jason.

"Oh, you're Mrs. Fowler," he reached out his hand. "I am Mel Hart. Anything I can do to help, Ma'am. I'm even willing to testify on his behalf."

"Well, thank you, Mr. Hart. That would be very helpful."

Somehow it made him sympathetic to Jason's plight. It's not easy these days to get somebody to testify on your behalf. Either they just don't care, or they don't want to get involved. For heaven's sake, don't get involved and don't let anybody interrupt your routine schedule. It's like helping another fellow human being is a nuisance and should be avoided as often as possible.

But as they talked at the table and drank some coffee, Arlene noticed that Mel Hart was being _too helpful. _His amber eyes fixed on Jason, following every move his face was making, laughing at the jokes, which sometimes were not funny...and the way he stroked Jason's hand somehow it was...creepy. Was Mel in love with Jason?

"Tell me, Jason," Arlene decided it was about the time she got some information about Sam and how she had been brought there. "How do you know Sam? Did you work together somewhere?"

"No, Ma'am. I ain't that kind of type, I guess."

"_That kind of type?"_

Jason sipped his coffee and grinned, "You know, being a secretary, being bossed around by some woman...now, don't get me wrong, Ma'am, I like you, I mean, I think you're a good lawyer... but it ain't in my nature to sit behind the desk and listen to a woman yapping...I mean talking...,"

"All right, Jason, I think I get what you mean," Arlene snapped him. She's really not that interested in listening to his argument on why he didn't want to be bossed around. "So, how d'you know each other?"

"It seems since I've got attacked, I became lucky somehow."

"What do you mean?"

"I got to know Mel (Mel's eyes flickered when he heard that. For a moment his irises' changed into slits, like cat's eyes catching some bright light.) Then, I got to know Sam. He introduced me to Alcide and some other guys. I was kinda broke two months ago, ain't got no job anymore and Alcide offered me a job in his construction company."

"So when Sam asked you to help him helping me...,"

"I said yes, no question asked."

"Not even wondering what happened to me?"

"Oh, I asked that all right. I am having enough problems with the law already, I don't need to add some more."

"What did Sam say?"

"He said that somebody had robbed you and smashed your apartment. You'd needed a place to stay for a while, at least until he could figure out what was going on and where was a safe place, and you should stay here."

Well, more or less like that, yeah. But Arlene didn't agree with the idea she should stay in a stranger's house. "Did he say when he would come?"

"As soon as he can," Jason stood up. "That's why I asked you to come, Mel."

Mel looked at him.

"I got to go to work, and Sam said you shouldn't be left alone, Arlene." Jason turned to Arlene. "Mel will be here and keep you company."

"I thought you were going to...," Mel smiled. Clearly, he looked disappointed. "Never mind, sure, why not."

"I'll need some fresh clothes," said Arlene. She sniffed her t-shirt and cursed herself when she felt her heart beat faster as she caught a familiar smell. Eric's cologne. Her t-shirt must have caught it when they had been on the bed. Suddenly a crazy thought, or more a hope, came to her mind. Perhaps, her t-shirt hadn't caught it. Perhaps, it was because Eric carried her out of the bathroom, put her t-shirt on and then carried her to wherever his destination was.

"You can borrow my sister's clothes. She's younger than you, Arlene, but believe me, she dresses up like an old woman...oh shit... not that I am saying you're old...,"

From the corner of her eye, Arlene saw Mel trying to disguise his smile.

"You just wait here, Arlene, please. Sam said so."

Sam said so and she had to follow as simple as that. Huh, she must have be living in a kind of parallel world now, where Sam was the boss and she was the secretary, where there was no vampire, werewolf and other creatures!

Jason went to the room beside the bedroom.

"How long do you think you're gonna stay here, Arlene?"

_Wow, that was straight to the point_, thought Arlene. "Not too long, I hope," she said. "I want to get back to work as soon as possible."

Mel rolled his smile. Somehow it made him cute. Arlene smiled back. He couldn't help himself, she's supposed. He's in love with Jason, and the presence of another person – a woman, with the assumption that Jason was straight (or bisexual, otherwise Mel would've reacted towards her differently); would lower his chance.

"I can accompany you if you want to go back to your place," he drank his coffee. "You shouldn't be alone, that's what this Sam person said. It doesn't mean that you can't go anywhere else if you're with somebody."

_Oh, that's pushing it and a bit desperate. _

Jason went out of his room. On his shoulder was a dark green back pack. "Don't listen to him, Arlene," he came to Mel and messed his hair. "The last time I listened to him, I ended up almost naked in a strip joint. And still, he didn't want to tell me what the fuck I had been smoking!"

"Oh, you want to know, all right! You want to have it again! I told you, Jason, it's a new merchandise and it will cost you a fortune. You'll end up being stripped if you continue doing it and without being paid!"

"Boys, whatever you get yourselves into...I don't want to know," said Arlene. "I have enough problems as it is, and frankly Jason, the next time you hire me, it will cost you a fortune."

"That's why you shouldn't listen to him, Arlene. He does nothing but drag you into problems!"

"You make it sound as if it was a bad thing," Mel grinned widely.

"Yeah, yeah...," Jason waved and walked to the door. "Just stay put, Arlene. You'll be safe here." He opened the door, but then, he stopped. "That's weird," he said.

"What?" The grin on Mel's face was disappeared. He became alerted.

Arlene's skin crawled. She had seen that kind of gesture before...on the men who came to her apartment with Jackson Hervaux. The balled fist, the eyes...

"That black car," said Jason without turning. "I saw it last night shortly after Sam had left. Ah, maybe it's only...no, that's the same Harley too...,"

Arlene and Mel went to Jason. Mel stood beside him, and Arlene stood behind Jason and peeped. She didn't see any car, but she could see a Harley Davidson motorcycle passing by.

"I wouldn't have noticed it if it wasn't because of the Harley. And early this morning, I swore I heard the Harley passing by the house."

"They come from Mississippi," said Mel.

"Mississippi?" Arlene straightened her body.

"Yeah, Biloxi is on its license plate."

Biloxi, as Mel said it, is the Biloxi Lighthouse. It is a lighthouse in the City of Biloxi – Mississippi. Besides as a symbol of the city's resolve and resilience post Katrina, it's also used as the slogan or type on the license plates.

"How can you see it? The car and the Harley are already far away. I don't see a thing."

"I just do," said Mel. "Trust me, they're from Mississippi."

Mississippi...where had she heard that place before...of course she knew where Mississippi was and she heard it before...but recently...she heard somebody mention that name recently...dear Lord. Bobby Burnham. He said something about familiar faces from Mississippi.

Arlene's heart beat crazily. "I have to leave," she said. "I can't stay here."

"What?" Both Jason and Mel were looking at her.

"Those men...they know; they're looking for me. They know I am here."

-1-


	3. Hotshot Community

Chapter Three

**Hotshot Community  
><strong>

Jason drove the car much too fast for Arlene's taste. The needle on the speedometer moved between 50 and 60 mph, more to the direction 60 mph.

"Hey, man," said Mel, "Take it easy, will you?"

"The sooner we get to your uncle's place, the better off we will be."

"Not if we all end up in a hospital."

"Or jail," Arlene looked at Jason. "Please, Jason, slow down. The last thing that we need is answering questions from a police officer."

"They will find out that you ain't at my place anymore, Arlene."

"They _will _find out, Jason. Sooner or later," Mel looked out the window. From the rear view mirror Arlene saw his face turn hard when he continued, "But my uncle will protect her. I'll make sure that he does."

"Thank you," said Arlene.

"Yeah, thanks, man. You're the best."

Mel's smiled appeared again. "You'd do the same for me, right?"

"Absolutely, man. Yeah."

Entering the Hot Shot park area, Jason turned the car to left. Mel told him to go straight until the big birch tree on the right side of the road, then turn right. Jason's face was pale as he turned the car.

"Jason, are you all right?" asked Arlene.

"This is where I was attacked."

"No," said Mel. "I found you some miles back."

"No, no. I am sure this was the place."

"If you had been attacked by a wild animal, Jay, I think I would've seen it. Honest, man. I didn't see any animal."

Jason's jaws moved, but he didn't say anything.

From the rear mirror, Arlene saw Mel biting his lips. His eyes were flickering, this time, his irises changed to orange. But as she blinked, they were already back to normal.

The road was getting smaller and smaller after they passed the birch tree. Some yards away from the Birch tree there was a board standing against a tree trunk on the left side of the road.

You are entering the Hotshot Community.

Population: 50 people

"Fifty people? That ain't much," said Jason.

"No, that's not much. The area has belonged to my family for ages and nobody leaves. No new people come here either."

Tall, big trees were standing on the left and right side of the road. They were so tall and thick with leaves that the sunlight coudn't pass through. Soon, Arlene felt like they were entering a kind of damned village. A Village, where its people didn't have much contact with the outside world and ended up depending on each other, marrying each other and acting strangely every time strangers came to their place.

In some ways, the road looked familiar to her. Eric had mentioned about a long road she had to go through if she wanted to leave his hole. Was it the same long road? If it was, what did he mean when he said werewolves weren't the only ones who lived in the woods that lined that road?

She stole a look at Mel. He looked like any normal guy she'd ever seen, except his eyes. There's something about those eyes that made her always think about a cat. _Nonsense, _she thought. _He's a nice person. He's no werewolf or vampire. Besides, werewolves and vampires are nonsense. A nice subject to write a best seller book or block buster movie, that's it. There is no such thing as a werewolf or vampire!_

A soft smell came from her t-shirt, reached her nose, and without mercy brought back Eric's face. His eyes, his smirk and the way he said his words when they were on the bed. He's very demanding, ordering her like a judge ordering lawyers to shut up or continue, biting her like a starving boy who hadn't eaten for days, satisfying her like good lovers would do.

Arlene sighed. Dear Lord...why couldn't she shut her eyes without thinking about that son of a bitch?

After a good ten minutes drive, they arrived at the center of the village, as Mel put it. Ten houses stood in a kind of circle, surrounded by trees. Opposite to some horrible thoughts that had come to her head, the houses looked well taken care of. Clearly they had electricity here, because she heard the sound of television somewhere turned up loud. Three cars – one small truck and two family cars were parked in front of the biggest house of all.

"Home sweet home," Mel said.

Arlene got out of the car and wondered, how the hell didn't she know about this area? She had lived in Bon Temps for all of her life, and yet, an area like Hot shot had been totally unknown to her. She knew the park, she knew the woods too, but she had never thought that people lived within the woods!

A man named Calvin Norris was introduced to her and Jason. He was in his 50s, average height but strongly built. His almost all white hair was cropped short, military-like. His grip was strong, and yet, to Arlene's surprise, his hand was soft, as if it was protected by some kind of fur.

"We'd better go inside," he said. His voice was hoarse. "Please, come."

His house was small, but neat. There was almost no interior decoration, except a photo on the wall. A photo of a girl with long blond hair and eyes like Mel's. Light brown, almost yellowish.

"I didn't know that you have a sister," said Jason, his eyes were caressing the photo greedily.

"She's my cousin," said Mel.

"Really?" Jason's eyes were widened. "She definitely looks like you, man."

Mel didn't look pleased. "Is she home, Uncle?"

"She's working now," said Calvin, "at a Supermarket down town."

_Down town _must have been everywhere else but this village.

"What can I do for you, Ma'am?" asked Calvin after everybody sat down. "Pardon me for being straight, Ma'am, but I can recognise somebody in trouble when I see them. I suggest, we skip all social chit chat and get straight to the point. If I can help you, I'll say so, if I can't, I'll be honest with you and tell you."

Now Arlene knew where Mel got his straight-to-the-point habit. It looked like it ran in the family.

Carefully, Arlene told him what she had been through in the last two days. The meeting with The Herveauxs, the missing Selah, the raids against her home and the men from Mississippi. Carefully she avoided telling him about Eric and his hole or what she knew about artificial blood for vampires. As convincing as it sounded, the idea of knowing about artificial blood for vampires made her sound like a good candidate for a mental institution.

Calvin's eyes looked straight into her eyes and didn't blink. His mouth formed a straight line. The way he sat and bent his body reminded her of an interrogator in a precinct somewhere. "Are you sure you weren't followed?"

At first, Arlene thought that he had asked her, but then she saw him turning to Mel.

"No, I am not sure," said Mel. "But Jason drove the car as fast as he could, Uncle."

"No," said Jason. "I drove as fast as you allowed me. If you...,"

"Yeah, yeah, Jason," cut in Mel. "Some other time. Okay, man?"

"Were you able to see who they were?" asked Calvin.

"No."

"Yeah."

Jason and Mel answered at the same time.

"What did they look like?"

"I could only see the one rider," said Jason. "He's big, red haired and has a big...huge scar on his face. And there's a FU tattoo on his arm."

"FU?" asked Arlene.

"Fuck you," Mel sighed.

"Excuse me?" Arlene was perplexed.

"Not you, Arlene. The rider. He's a member of Fuck You Crew from Mississippi."

"A member of what?"

"Bikers club," Mel balled his fist and covered his mouth with it. "From Mississippi...,"

Calvin's jaw moved. "Not any normal bikers club," he said. "I think it'd be better if you stay here for some days until we can figure out what to do, Arlene."

"What's going on?" Jason looked confused. "I will have my hearing in two days, and my lawyer's being followed by bikers. If you ain't show up at the court..."

"I will," Arlene interrupted him. She forced herself to sound as stern as she could. "We will go to the court together, Jason."

Jason pulled his hair. "Sorry, Arlene. I sound like an a-hole. I just want my case disappear, that's all."

Yeah, her too. She wanted whatever problems she was having to disappear. She wanted everything back to where it had been before she knew Eric. But she knew, it couldn't. It had happened. She had met Eric, and somehow, some way, she'd got involved with all this. She had to face it; she had no other choice. She had to get to the bottom of it and solve it.

Arlene looked at Calvin and decided to tell the truth. She was going to need this man, her instinct told her. It would be better if he knew what he was about to face. Selah had dragged her into her problems, she wasn't about to do the same thing with other people.

"Calvin," she said. "There's something I need to tell you."

-1-

The room was quiet as Arlene told them what she needed to. Nobody moved. Jason sat on the chair face pale and his mouth hanging slack. Mel and Calvin looked at each other without saying anything. Their eyes moved rapidly and their jaws clenched from time to time.

Arlene herself was afraid to move. She was even afraid to take a deep breath. She had a feeling if she did, she would break the thick air between them. She had done the right thing; she knew it. Calvin's and Mel's reactions were clear. They _knew._ They hadn't looked at her with disbelief or even shock. They were either superstitious persons or they knew. There was no other explanation. As far as she knew people, and she knew a lot of people, nobody would admit that they believed in the existence of werewolves and vampires!

She didn't know how long they were in silence till Calvin got up and said to Mel that he should gather his brothers and sisters. Then, he turned to Jason and asked him to go to work. First, Jason protested, but then he agreed after hearing what Calvin had to say. The best thing for them was that they continue doing what they're supposed to do, Calvin said. So that the enemies wouldn't know we knew.

The enemies?

"Yes, Arlene. Enemies. They are after you; they are your enemies. As simple as that. They are not kind of people who will leave you alone before they get what you want."

And she didn't know what they wanted. She hoped if they caught up with he, she did. Because whatever it was, it wasn't worth to losing her life over it.

"You have to find this vampire Eric," said Mel. "You have to find him and demand that he explain everything."

"Are you out of your mind?"Arlene shook her head. "I won't see him again, and the hell if I have to look for him!"

"He will find you," Calvin's jaw jolted.

"How?"

"You drank his blood," His brown almost amber eyes flickered. "He can feel your emotions..."

"I know. He told me."

"And he will be able to track you down."

"You make it sound as if his blood is a kind of GPS," said Arlene.

"What is a GPS?"

Calvin must be one of very few people who also didn't have mobile phones, a computer and perhaps even television set.

"Global Positioning Systems, Uncle. An device which can tell its operator the location of the target."

"Hmh... principally, it is. That's the way they keep track of their prey." Again, his eyes flickered. "He didn't bite you."

It was not a question. It was more like a statement.

"No, he didn't," Arlene said. _Not on the neck_.

"You can consider yourself lucky. He doesn't consider you as his prey, it means you have something important that he wants. He won't kill you, at least not before he gets it."

"How do you know so much?" asked Jason suddenly. "People would think I'm mad if I said things like that."

"Let's put it this way, Jason. I've been living longer than you. And living not so far from woods like this makes me closer to the nature and I see things in different way."

"If vampires and werewolves exist...," Jason looked thoughtful, "Does it mean other creatures exist too? You know... dragon, leprechaun, faeries...Santa?"

Mel got up and patted his shoulder. "You'll never know, Jay. But don't think about it, you'll find out sooner or later. Come, I'll go with you to your work place. If those bikers recognize you, you'll need some help."

Jason got up. "What about Arlene? I promised Sam...,"

"My uncle will be with her. Don't worry, Jay. She'll be fine." Mel dragged him. "Come!"

Jason looked at her one more time and gave her a look of reassurance, before he followed Mel.

-2-

Hotshot Community was a small community with 12 families. Each of them was related. It was either brothers, sisters or first and second cousins. It was remarkable to see that they looked so much like each other, as if all of them were brothers and sisters.

Calvin seemed to be their leader. He gathered them all – twenty of them, the rest were either at school or working. He didn't say much except that they should be more vigilant and aware. From now on, nobody is allowed to cross Hotshot area. They knew what to do if the trespassers insisted on entering the area.

Arlene didn't like the sound of it. It made her feel as if they were in some kind of war.

"We are in a war, Arlene. Sooner or later."

"Now, Calvin. I really appreciate what you're trying to do for me, but I think it's exaggerating. I know, I am facing a complicated situation right now; I also know that I can't tell anybody otherwise they will think I am crazy, but I do believe, there has to be a way out that doesn't involve any violence!"

"Listen to me, Arlene. It's not that easy. Vampires, werewolves and other beings are not human. They won't be accepted easily, and I won't be surprised if they are hunted, observed and looked at through prejudiced eyes.

"I won't blame the human. It's natural. Vampires survive solely on human's blood. Werewolves and other beings – they eat and act like normal human beings, except some days before and during the full moon. They are also unpredictable and aggressive due to their nature. Things can turn ugly when the weres are angry or out of control.

"Now it seems, vampires will decide to come out of their coffins. Can you imagine what will happen? It's difficult already for some people to accept that there are different religions in this world, which teach different understandings about life after death; and now, they have to face that some people don't die – yes, they die but not in the sense that they've understood or believed. Some religious fanatics will think it's a work of Satan and I am afraid they are not going to stand by and watch their way of life being destroyed by vampires and any other beings."

Arlene closed her eyes. "Eric said that the world I've known would be changed, I just didn't know or didn't imagine that it would be that drastic."

"I don't want to scare you, Arlene, but I am afraid, the reality will be even worse."

"What shall I do, Calvin?"

"First, you have to find your friend Selah."

"I don't know where she is."

"I know a place, where vampires hang out. I might even know where to find this vampire Eric."

"You do?"

His brown almost amber eyes flickered. "He won't like me for this, but it's been quite a while since I have had any enjoyment. And frankly, Arlene. He keeps you alive for a reason. And I want to know what that reason is."

xxxxx


	4. Fangtasia

**Author's Note: **Thanks to Viking Rule, who corrected and reviewed the story! I had a thought to plant some new brains in Jason's head, but I think, I love him just the way he is ;). I promise, I'll try my best to surprise you, my friend; because along the way I know, I surprise myself. Surprises are good, Doctor Who would say. And so are bow ties, lol.

My hero - Andy Bellefleur - is a total different story. I believe Chris Bauer can pull it off if Andy had to act tough and clever. I really want to see Andy kick some asses in True Blood!

* * *

><p>Chapter Four<p>

**Fangtasia  
><strong>

"You wait here," said Calvin as he opened the car door. "Whatever happens, don't open the door and do what I say."

Clack, clack.

Arlene pushed the button that closed the windows. Calvin nodded at her and walked to the building in front of them.

She didn't know where they were. What she knew was that it took around an hour to reach the place. Calvin said something about asking a guy who knew a guy who worked for a guy. He told his people to stay at home and to send somebody to fetch them if something happened in Hotshot.

What was this place anyway? On this lonely road, there was no other building but the one she was looking at. The building was ragged and dirty. Some parts of the walls had lost their color, some of the blocks of cement were just hanging! The roof looked like a hurricane had just left some minutes ago! Some tiles were broken, and some were hanging loose. She swore, if the wind a little blew a bit harder, those tiles would fall!

Fangtasia.

That was the name of the building or at least that's what Arlene thought. Fangtasia, just like the building itself, the colors on the letters were already faded, one of the "A"s completely and the "i" had lost its dot. Fangtasia? It was more like a nightmare than a fantasy. Or it had to be some kind of perverted fantasy!

Waiting inside a car, which had seen its best years long ago, on a lonely road made Arlene wonder, what she had doing all these years , or to be more precise, _where_ she had spent her years. This place and Hotshot community looked like places, which existed only in Western or Noir movies, or worse, some remote province in a third-world country. It had never crossed her mind that she would've been there, alone, waiting for a man, whom she had just met some hours ago, asking a guy who knew a guy who worked for a guy.

Stupid. And naïve. That's what she was. She should be more careful and not so easily trust just anybody!

Arlene took a deep breath. What would Eric say when he knew she was being careless like this? If what Calvin said was correct, he kept her alive for a reason... what the hell? Who cared what Eric would say! She swore, she had believed she would die when Eric jumped on her. His fangs had been bare and the madness in his eyes was something she'd never ever want to see again. She didn't recall what she had done, but one thing for sure, she had screamed, probably the loudest and longest scream she had ever made in her life.

Arlene knew, by investigating this thing further she would only drag herself into more trouble and probably even deeper problems. However, she had to know. She had to know why Eric hadn't killed her, why those werewolves had tried to kill her, and for God's sake, if whatever Eric had told her was true!

Calvin was out of the building, waving at her to come.

Arlene stepped out of the car. She looked down to see that her necklace wasn't covered by her t-shirt. For a moment, she thought about putting it under her t-shirt, but then, she changed her mind. Holly hadn't given her the necklace for nothing. Eric said it was a High Priestess' necklace. Maybe he had told the truth, maybe he hadn't, what the heck! It's worth to try.

Calvin drew a smile when he saw the necklace. "You don't really believe in it, do you?"

"What?"

Calvin whispered. "I know a witch when I see one. But it's a nice try. People in this building believe that kind of crap."

Arlene looked at him. Who was this guy?

Her skin crawled as they entered the building. It was seedy, dirty and even when the sun shone brightly outside, this building was dark. The light from the lamps on some of the walls weren't strong enough to brighten the room, in fact they even managed to make the building look shadier. Arlene swore, this building had no windows or even doors, which was nonsense because they had just walked right through it. The smell of booze and cigarettes hung heavily in the air. Somewhere in the corner, there was even a smell of a dead body or something! It's so stank that Arlene had to cover her nose.

"What is this place?" she whispered.

"A very mismanaged bar," said Calvin. "In the hands of someone with a better sense of business, this bar would be very lucrative!"

Whoever that somebody would be, they would need to blow this place up and start rebuilding it again from the scratch to get rid of all the smells!

At the bar, a woman with short dark hair, dog collar on her neck, ring on her nose and uncountable earrings around her ear was wiping a glass. Her face wasn't exactly friendly when she looked at them and said, "Andy is in his office."

This place had an office?

Calvin nodded and asked Arlene to follow him. They went through a small hallway, also as dark as the front room, climbed some stairs and they were there. The office. A small room, which had a table filled with every kind of sauce - Tabasco, Valentina, Texas Pete, Trappey's Hot Sauce and Lord knows what else –, arranged neatly.. The cabinet in the corner was full of folders. They looked as if nobody had ever arranged or even touched those folders. if she were the boss, she would have fired the one who took care of them! Immediately!

Behind the desk was a man. He was in his forties, had a strong figure and bald. He wore a khaki shirt, with two upper buttons opened, showing his white under t-shirt. "I'm going to regret this," he grunted. He was obviously the one whom that woman called Andy.

_A very friendly man_, Arlene thought, _just like the rest of the people in this building._

"I'm not a part of this shit, Ma'am," he looked at her. "You have to know this. It's my cousin who works for them and not me. I'm telling you right now, I have nothing to do with it, and I know nothing about it."

"Fair enough," said Arlene, trying to sound as strict as possible.

"He has a bar somewhere in the North, and it's only open in after dusk. But you can't enter, if you don't have a member card. You tell her, Norris."

Calvin looked at her. Under the dim light, his eyes looked green-golden, and to Arlene's surprise, they also looked like a cat's. "You have to be a supe to be a member."

Arlene opened her eyes. A what?

"A witch isn't exactly welcome there," Andy looked at her from head to toe. "And you're not a were or a shifter, either." He lifted the telephone. "I don't promise anything...,"

"Tell Terry he owes me," said Norris.

Andy snarled. "You got to know, Ma'am, he's not exactly a friendly man."

If his cousin was a bit _friendlier _than he was, Arlene'd consider him as friendly enough.

Andy tapped the table with his fingers. It's clear that he was impatient. After a while, he took the phone from his ear. "Nobody's picking up." The lines on his forehead appeared. "That's strange. Terry's phone is never off the hook. Let me try again."

After several attempts , and still no answer, Andy pressed a number and said, almost yelling, "Sweetie, send somebody to go to Terry's... I don't care who...Now!" He smashed the telephone back on its base.

"It could take a while," Calvin said. He took a chair and offered it to Arlene. "Please, take a seat," he said.

"Thank you," said Arlene, sitting down.

"Can I offer you something to drink?" asked Andy.

"No, thank you," said Arlene. She'd do anything she could to avoid drinking or touching anything from this place.

"How's business, Andy?" asked Calvin. Arlene thought Calvin must have been joking, asking that question.

"Not so good," he said. "Bad economy and stuff, you know."

_Aha_, thought Arlene. _Blame it on the economy_, _that's a good way not to improve the quality of your business._

"I am thinking about selling it, and move out of this shitty town."

"Any offers?" Arlene looked around the room. With a little bit of a clean and tidy up, she could imagine this room would look nice. It had high walls and arched ceiling. Right in the middle of the ceiling was a chandelier. It had a simple motive, only a circle and some candle holders. Then, as her eyes trailed along the wall, she caught a picture of three men. Her heart jumped. The one in the middle held fishing equipment and a big fish. But that wasn't the reason her heart beat crazily like that.

"Arlene, are you all right?" asked Calvin.

Under that photo something was written: _'The Bon Temps Fishing Competition Winners: The Bellefleurs and Dawson'. _Bellefleur... Bobby Burnham had mentioned that name when he was at her place. "Terry...," Arlene said, "Terry...Bellefleur?"

"Yes," Andy looked alerted. "Do you know my cousin?"

"No. Bobby Burnham mentioned his name once."

"You know Burnham?" Now, not only did Andy look alert, Calvin did too.

"Yes...," Arlene covered her mouth. "Dear Lord...," she looked at Calvin. "Why didn't you tell me it was Bellefleur, and the other guy you meant was Eric Northman?"

Calvin and Andy looked at each other. They didn't have to tell her; Arlene could see from their faces that they were surprised to know that she knew Eric. Why was Calvin surprised anyway? She had told him about Eric. She couldn't imagine there were other vampires whose names were Eric!

"I don't know if it means anything to you," she tried to be as calm as possible, but her voice was an octave higher when she continued, "But they were under attack last night. I am sure your cousin was also there."

"Where?" asked Calvin.

"I don't know. I heard Burnham saying that Eric should come to help them. One of them – Chow – was down, and Jackson Herveaux was injured. You must know where their place is."

"Northman's bar. It's got to be it." Andy got up and pulled out the drawer. He took a gun from the drawer. "Norris, we can't take care of this thing by ourselves. We're gonna need some help, and the Long Tooth Pack has to know."

Calvin's jaw moved. "They probably know already. We'd better go there and see what's happened."

Hurriedly, they got out of the office. Andy told the girl, almost yelling, to close down the bar and told her whomever she had sent to fetch Terry to tell him to go to Northman's bar and take some people with him.

The dust was flying up in the air as Calvin drove the car away from Fangtasia. Arlene turned around and took a good look at that shady place one more time. She saw Sweetie standing in front of the building and puff! She's gone. Her clothes fell to the ground, and rising from her clothes was a bird, which soon shot itself into the air.

Arlene gasped and turned her face around. She shook her head and rubbed her eyes. She's hallucinating; she was sure of it, there's no other explanation! She turned around again. There's nobody there, but the clothes were still there.

"She's a shapeshifter, Arlene," said Calvin. "Most of Fangtasia's visitors are supes, I should've warned you about that, sorry."

"Supes?"

"Supernatural beings," he patted Andy's shoulder. "Including Andy here. He and his cousin Terry are the best fish catchers in town; I don't believe that he's just a human. He must have something in him that attracts the fishes!"

Andy snorted. "As if I didn't have enough problems already! Supes my ass!"

Then, the conversation changed to fishing. What was the best bait, where to fish, with what and when and more importantly what you have to have in your tackle box. Andy mentioned something like aspirins, toilet paper, even a lighter. Arlene thought it would've been something more important like rod, reels, line or even a net. But the more she listened to him, the more he made sense.

"Remember Murphy's law," Andy said. "When something can go wrong, it will go wrong and it will cause the worst possible damage. So never underestimate the importance of toilet paper."

Somehow, Arlene thanked Calvin for it. It's simply good to hear a daily conversation after what had happened over the last two days. Fishing wasn't exactly her cup of tea, but it's better than blood or killing. It's also good to see Andy look more relaxed. The sour and angry expression he had given her some time ago was gone and replaced by excitement and sometimes even laughs. It made him a completely different man and somehow...

BUMP!

A loud noise hit her ears as the car suddenly stopped. For a moment she was thrown to the front and then swung back into the seat! If she hadn't worn her seat-belt, she would've flown through the front window.

"What the f...?" Arlene heard Andy cursing.

"Are you okay, Arlene?"

"Yeah, yeah. What happened?"

"Stay in the car," said Calvin, opening the door.

Andy opened the door too and jumped out. "Arlene, you'd better sit behind the wheel," he said. "Just in case you have to leave this place by yourself."

"What is going on?"

But neither of them answered.

Arlene opened her seat-belt and moved to the drivers seat. Through the window she saw Andy cocking his gun and Calvin spreading his arms. Her jaw dropped. Calvin's arms were now covered by black fur and coming from his fingers were long pointed claws... like claws of a tiger, no, not a tiger, a panther. Was he a werepanther? Did that word even exist?

Arlene forced herself to concentrate. Whatever Calvin was, she told herself, he was on her side. Or he was being helpful and that's what mattered.

Both of them continued walking, and then they knelt. They were checking something. Arlene craned her neck to catch a glimpse of what they were checking, but Andy's and Calvin's big figures blocked her view. What was happening? Did they find something? Was somebody there...laying on the ground?

She had to know. Somebody had told her what to do for the last two days, it was either Sam, Holly, Eric or even Calvin. No, it's enough. She had to take the matters into her own hands and face it. She couldn't act like a naïve idiot who did what everybody told her to do, no, not this time. If she wanted to get to the bottom of it, she'd better start accordingly. She's a lawyer, for Christ's sake, where was her intuition and curiosity?

Arlene opened the door and stepped down.

Calvin turned around and got up when he saw her. "Arlene, you don't want to see this. Please, stay in the car."

"No," she said.

"Arlene...,"

"Let her see it, Cal," Andy got up too. "She's dealing with Northman, let her know what he or his enemies are capable of."

Arlene shrieked when she saw what Calvin and Andy had been checking. On the ground, some steps away from them, was a body. He was naked, or if he wore any clothes, Arlene didn't see it. His body was black-red from blood, which wasn't dry yet. Arlene had seen some gruesome pictures from murder crime scenes, but she'd never seen something like this before. His head was twisted 180 degrees, his eyes were wide open, so were his jaws. And in those open jaws, some long pointed teeth were seen.

"Werewolf," Calvin spat on the ground.

"We have to call the police," said Arlene. "We can't leave him laying around like this."

Suddenly, Calvin snarled.

Arlene jumped back. His sound was like the roaring of a tiger. His amber eyes changed into yellow and out of nowhere, two pairs of large teeth came out of his jaw. His black fur covered arms were now pointing at her face. Arlene's hands were shaking. She felt her blood run cold.

"You will do no such thing," he said.

Andy lifted his gun. "Cal, calm down, now. Arlene won't do such a thing, right, Arlene? We will all calm down and talk with cool heads, right, Cal?"

Calvin shook his head, sniffed and slowly, his eyes returned to normal. "Sorry, Arlene," he said. His voice was hoarse. "I can't let the Government's people see this. When they see this, they will sweep the area for any escaping wild animals. I can't let them enter my village. Soon, we will have full moon; some of my young cubs can't control themselves yet, I don't want any blood spilled."

Arlene tried to catch her breath, which had suddenly returned and filled her lungs with so much air, she could hardly breathe.

"Arlene, you stay close to me, right?" Andy took her hand and pulled her behind him. "There's so much blood here," he said. "Calvin can't think straight because of it."

"It's all right, Andy," Calvin said. "It will never happen again."

_Yeah, right, _thought Arlene. _Who can guarantee that?_

"Northman's bar isn't far away from here. Let's go back to the car and finish this thing once and for all."

xxxxxx


	5. The Massacre

Chapter Five

**The Massacre  
><strong>

Massacre. There had been a massacre at this place. Though, hours later, coming out of somebody's else mouth: it had been a self-defense.

Bodies lined up for a mile or more. Some were complete, some lost some of their body parts. However they all looked a like. They were covered in blood – black, fishy blood. In some spots, Arlene saw dark red pools.

"That's vampire goo," said Andy. "You know, when vampires are killed, they change into that sticky nasty sh...stuff," he smiled apologetically for almost saying 'shit'. "It takes days to get rid of the smell, let alone the sticky feeling. It is as if it becomes a part of your skin."

Vampires' goo must be really awful if it could make an owner of a seedy, smelly bar complain. Vampires' goo...Arlene pressed her nose against the car's window. Her hands which were on the window as well were shaking. Vampires' goo...the words rang like a bell in her head. What if...what if one of those red pools of blood had been Eric?

"It must have been a huge fight last night," said Andy.

"They looked for death if they were fool enough to attack Northman's place," said Calvin.

"How do you know, Cal? I heard you never leave your village."

"I do, from time to time. Even then, Northman and his people aren't exactly quiet folk. Let's just say, news come to us, whether we want it or not."

What did he mean with 'not exactly quiet folk'? Did things like this happen often? And how many people were _his people? _

But the car stopped before Arlene could open her mouth and ask him. They didn't tell her to stay in the car this time and somehow she appreciated that. Andy muttered about to watch where she's going and not to get panicked or scared when she stepped on something. Something, heh! Some body parts, that would be more precise.

Arlene stood for a while beside the car. Everywhere around her were traces of blood and pieces of furniture. She shuddered to think what had really happened at this place last night. She had seen what a vampire and two werewolves were capable of in her own house, and what she had seen wasn't exactly encouraging her to move.

"Arlene, are you coming?"

Arlene looked at Andy, who had just finished talking to somebody on the phone. Calvin had already gone inside.

"You'd better stay close to me, Arlene," Andy walked toward her. "Some people will come; they are not what we will call normal people." He reached out his hand. "With blood all over the place like this, it'll be harder to deal with them. And they don't know you. So, if you're with somebody they're familiar with, it'll be better for you."

_Normal people. Supes. _Two new words that Arlene was certain sooner or later she had to accept. Perhaps sooner, much sooner than she thought.

The sound of screeching tires made Arlene turned around. Two four by fours stopped only some yards away from where Arlene was standing. Around ten men jumped down from the SUV's like dogs jumped over fences.

A man in his late forties – early fifties opened the door. Big sunglasses covered his eyes. Arlene couldn't see the color of his eyes, but she could see that his hands were covered with fur. Instinctively, she moved closer to Andy.

"Bellefleur," that man's voice was deep. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Colonel," Andy's voice was calm, but the hand that was holding the gun looked stiff. "I just arrived."

"I see,"The Colonel came to them and stood only a few steps away from them.

Arlene cursed the sunglasses that covered half of his face. She couldn't see who the Colonel was looking at and it made her feel uncomfortable. That face was emotionless. Whatever was going on inside his head, Arlene couldn't guess. Then, his head tilted. "If you care to step aside, Bellefleur, and let my boys do their work." He raised his hand, and the men behind him started moving, searching, sniffing, checking the surrounding.

"Sorry, no can't do, Colonel. My cousin is probably inside...,"

"If he's inside and he's still alive," Colonel cut him. "It won't be long. Or, he's a lucky bastard, and Northman saved him already. Either which, let us do the work, Bellefleur."

Andy stepped aside. "Calvin Norris is inside," he said. "He's with us."

"I can smell that inbred miles away," Colonel spat on the ground and then walked away.

Arlene's heart beat irregularly. The possibility that Eric might have survived somehow had lifted her spirits and she was more than glad to be able to stand and watch the Colonel's people do the work.

"Be ready to leave this place if I say so, Arlene," Andy hissed. "Calvin's and the Colonel's people don't get along so well. If they think that Calvin interferes with what they're doing, things may get ugly."

However, Andy's fear didn't seem to come true. Calvin came out of the building with blood on his arms, hands and face. It wasn't his, he said when Arlene gave him a shocked look. Arlene had a feeling, somehow, Calvin must have crawled on the floor.

They didn't find anybody they knew, Arlene heard some men tell the Colonel. It was definitely a fight between outsiders and Northman's people.

"And we found this, Colonel," one of the men handed out a jeans jacket.

The Colonel took the jacket and sniffed it. "Jackson's," he said. "Jackson was here. Are you sure you didn't miss anything?"

"Yes, Colonel. We have swept the place twice and we didn't find anything else."

"Do it again."

"Yes, Colonel," the men spread out and did what the Colonel told them.

"May be, he was taken to the Haugr" thought Arlene. And obviously, it was a loud thought because now the Colonel turned to her.

"What did you say?"

Suddenly Arlene had a feeling that she had said something wrong. Those eyes were bright yellow again and as he took a step forward, Calvin did exactly the same. Now, the two men were standing, facing each other in alert.

Arlene knew she didn't have any choice but to tell them the truth. "Last night, when I was with Eric Northman, Burnham called him and told him that Herveaux was brought to this place. He was wounded."

"Who brought him here?"

"I don't know. Burnham didn't say. He only said it was a shapeshifter." Arlene swallowed her spit. "I didn't know what happened after that because when I woke up, I was at Jason Stackhouse's place."

"Do you still remember where Northman's place is?"

"I haven't been glamored," Arlene raised her face. _Well, yeah, once, only to be told to kiss him. _She forced herself to act normally. "However, I can't tell you. I don't know how well you know Eric Northman, but he isn't exactly a man who likes to share information."

For a moment they stared at each other.

If there was something that was useful in years of practicing law and facing many kinds of people in court was the knowledge of how people would react in certain given circumstances. Based on her experience, the scarier or more intimidating some people tried to be, the less they had in their hands. Those who looked calm or cold were always the more dangerous ones. Because they were always prepared with surprising evidence or they simply didn't have any remorse about the crimes they had committed.

Colonel or whatever his name was was now trying to scare her. His eyes were narrowing, his lips formed a flat line, and his jaw tensed. Arlene knew, he wouldn't do anything stupid like harming her. Andy was ready with his gun and Calvin's claws were spread. As much as the Colonel wanted to know where the Haugr was (to think of it, Arlene was sure the whole community or supernatural beings would surely want to know too), he wouldn't jeopardize his or his people's safety.

It was as she had thought, after a while, the Colonel smirked. "You'd better come with us, Ma'am," he said. "It's not safe here."

"No," Arlene said. "I'll go with Calvin."

"As you like," the Colonel moved away. "If you are what I think you are, there will be other people who will be after you. And since you are here, they will be able to catch your scent. Going with Norris will mean that he will have to take you to his village. I don't think Norris will like the idea of having uninvited guests in his village tonight, will you, Norris?"

Calvin cleared his throat. "He's right."

Arlene looked at Calvin. "Jason will be worried," she said. "I can't do that to him. I still have to represent him in court."

"We'll take care of it, Ma'am," said Colonel. "We'd better leave soon. The longer we stay here, the easier it will be for them to catch your scent. Besides, you really don't want to be here when the evening comes. Northman won't take this situation easily."

-1-

The big black gate made screeching sound as four men pushed it to let the Colonel's and Calvin's car enter the grounds. Arlene turned her head around to watch the gate as it was being closed. As they moved slowly away, she had a strange feeling of entering forbidden territory– a territory, where you can go in but can't get out.

"Don't worry, Arlene," said Calvin without turning around. His eyes, which Arlene could see reflected in the front mirror were yellowish. "They won't do anything to harm you."

Arlene forced herself to smile. She wished she could believe that.

There were four buildings in the grounds. One was a hall, two of them were some sort of barracks, and the last one was a storage house. The Colonel took Arlene, Calvin and Andy to the hall. He asked them to stay there and not leave the building. He was going to fetch somebody, he said.

"I am worried about my cousin," said Andy suddenly. His chubby face was sweaty. "I told him to quit his job, but he never listens."

"Why does he work for Eric?" asked Arlene. "I can't imagine working for a vampire would be so much fun."

"Money," Andy sighed. "What else? Northman pays him really good."

"And why don't you?"

"I never liked working for somebody else," he smirked. "If I get a good offer for my bar, I think I'll try my luck with the sheriff's office. Because if I have to work for somebody, then it will be for Uncle Sam."

Arlene smiled. "That's a good plan. Who knows, Eric might want to buy it," she said, " a replacement for his."

"You think he might?" he looked at her with twinkling eyes. "You know, you might try to...talk him into it."

Heh, if she ever saw him again, talking to him about buying a bar would be the last thing on her mind, she had plenty of ideas on what she would do to him!

The door was opened. The three of them looked at the door. Behind the Colonel was a tall figure, clad in a red woodcutter shirt and black jeans. His face was somehow familiar to Arlene. As they moved closer, the new man reached out his hand and introduced himself as Alcide Herveaux, Jackson's son.

"I'll appreciate if you can tell me anything you know about my father, Arlene," his deep voice sounded distressed. "We've been trying to locate him since last night, without result."

"I would, if I could," said Arlene. "All I know is your father is wounded and was brought to Eric's establishment by a shapeshifter (Arlene prayed that she sounded normal as she said it). Then, Eric didn't tell me anything anymore."

"Merlotte," Alcide sighed. "It has to be him."

"Merlotte? Sam Merlotte?"

"Do you know him?"

"He's my...," Arlene cleared her throat, "...secretary." Sam Merlotte is a shapeshifter? He could change into animals? Dear Lord!

"You seem surprised."

Arlene nodded. "I didn't know that he's...,"

Alcide lifted his eyebrow. "That's Merlotte, all right. He bottles everything up. Arlene, would you do me a favor?"

"If I could...,"

"Please, stay here for a day or two."

"I..."

"Please. I have to know what happened to my father."

"I don't understand," said Arlene. "What does it have to do with me? And what can I do by staying here?"

"It's the only way to make Northman comes to us," Alcide said. At first, Arlene thought he was joking, but when her eyes met his, she knew he was serious. Those green eyes blazed with anger, and as she stared at them longer, yellow color started spreading from his iris outward, like the flickering of firecracker in the dark sky on the fourth of July.

"You really think that Northman cares about me?"

"He didn't kill you. He must have a reason."

Everybody kept saying that. Who was this Eric Northman anyway? Why did everybody seem to think that this man – vampire – was a killing machine, who would kill anybody at will? What was so special about her that made people think Eric was interested enough in her that he decided not to kill her?

Arlene tried to brush off the thought by saying, "I have a job to do. I have to go to the court, and my client...,"

"Jason Stackhouse, right?" Alcide interrupted her.

"Yes. How do you know?"

"He works for me," said Alcide. "I'll talk to him. Don't worry about the court, Arlene. I am sure we can think of something. Calvin, can I have a minute with you? Would you excuse us, Arlene?"

Calvin got up.

Arlene nodded.

Calvin and Alcide moved some steps away and talked in very low voices.

"Andy, may I ask you something?"

"Shoot."

"You've known them for a long time, haven't you? What would you do, if you were on the same situation?"

"Do you mean the supes or the Long Tooth Pack?"

"Both."

"They are under a lot of pressure right now. Jackson is missing, it seems they know something about the vampires that I don't, and they are facing the pack election in two months." Andy leaned closer. "I heard rumors about the vampires, but I am not sure if it's true or not."

"What?"

" I heard they were about to come out in the human world."

Arlene felt her heart stop beating. "What do you mean?"

"I heard they would make themselves known and live with us like normal people." Andy sounded breathless. "How are they going to do that? Using us as cattle or something?"

So, it was true. Eric had told the truth. They wanted to come out with the help of the artificial blood.

"Can you imagine what will happen? I mean, what about what the Bible says about living after death? What if I found out that my great grandfather wasn't dead, but he had become a vampire? How would we live with our vampire neighbor without being afraid that they would knock down our doors and suck us dry?"

Yes, she could imagine that.

"I've known them long enough to say they still scare the shit out of me, Arlene. And I am still not sure what I'm going to do when the day comes."

Arlene looked at Calvin and Alcide. She wasn't sure either. Huh, even Eric wasn't sure! Suddenly, as if Calvin could see or hear what she thought, he turned around and gave her a reassuring smile. She smiled back. Que será será.Whatever will be, will be?

After a while, both men came to her.

"Jason's place is not safe for you anymore," said Alcide. "They knew you were there. I think it's better if you stay here. They wouldn't dare to enter this compound, I promise you. Unless they have a death wish." His voice sounded stern, and his eyes looked thoughtful when he continued, "I am sorry to drag you into our problems, Arlene. We shouldn't have hired your firm, alas, it happened and what is done is done. When everything is over, I can only repay you by inviting you to be the friend of the Long Tooth Pack. I do hope, you'll accept my invitation," he smiled. "I'd be most grateful."

-2-

Cool wind entered the room as Arlene opened the window. She just had to do it, even when Alcide had warned her not to. She couldn't stand the pressure she felt heavily on her chest. She needed fresh air.

The sky was dark; some stars, which were twinkling somewhere on the South, weren't able to chase away the darkness that came abruptly. The sun had set one or two hours ago, and yet, the wind was already cooler. Autumn was coming. Arlene loved Autumn. The world seemed more colorful at that time of year, even when the wind was strong and getting colder and colder.

Her room was on the second floor. Alcide said, if they decided to come to get her, at least, they would have to face the Long Tooth pack members first. And he promised her, he and his men weren't going to let them get her easily.

This Long Tooth Pack was a group of people, whose faces were as grim as people who had lost their cases in court. Nobody smiled, and conversation was limited. Only one or two words came out of their mouths, as if they had to pay for any word they spoke. However, the scariest part was their bodies. Most of them were built, and furry. Not like any normal man with hair on their body, the members of Long Tooth Pack – men or women – had long black hair which covered the skin which was not hidden under their clothes. It made them look like monkeys.

When she asked Calvin, who was also covered with hair; he said, "The full moon is coming They are werewolves, Arlene. Their bodies react to the power of the moon, without them being able to control it."

"What about you, Calvin? Are you a werewolf, too?"

"No. I am a werepanther. But my situation is a little bit more complicated than theirs. I'll tell you all about it one day." His eyes looked straight into hers. "If you are still interested in finding out."

Werepanther, that's news to her, but then what wasn't news to her lately? The world was becoming a strange new place.

"You are safe, Arlene. You are in a werewolves lair. Who would be fool enough or desperate enough to break in and try to get you?"

Yes, who would be fool enough? Arlene couldn't think of anybody, who would be desperate enough. John? Heh, it would be a miracle if that man would even dare to try to contact any of his powerful friends to find out her whereabouts.

Arlene sighed. She should've said no when Selah came with the idea of having a fun night. She should've said no when Eric asked her to invite him in. "Damn you, Selah. Damn you, Eric!"

"Missed me, already?"

A soft almost soothing voice made Arlene shriek and jump.

Eric. He was standing beside the window, folding his hands in front of his chest.

"What are you doing here?" asked Arlene, almost yelling.

"You have to leave this place," he said. "Now."

"There's no way that I will leave with you!"

He smirked. "Who said anything about leaving with me?"

A knock on the door. "Arlene, are you all right?"

Calvin was at the door.

"Tell that panther to leave, otherwise I'll skin him alive," said Eric. Still with his soft voice. But Arlene didn't miss the threat.

"I am fine, Calvin. Thanks. It's just a stupid stinky bat hit my window," Eric lifted his eyebrow as he heard that, but Arlene didn't care.

"Call me if you need me. I'll be in the hall way."

"I'll do that."

Eric reached out his hand. "Come with me. I'll explain everything."

"I don't trust you."

"I don't ask you to. But it will make you feel better."

"What?"

"My explanation," he smirked. "Or I will."

"You...," Arlene couldn't find a word to describe his arrogance, cocky, careless and stupid behavior.

"I don't have much time, Arlene," he said. "Sooner or later they will catch my scent. Take off your shirt and trousers and leave them here."

"What?"

"So that they can smell you."

"I will not...,"

"Don't be childish. Sex is the last thing that is on my mind right now."

Arlene felt her face hot, but she did what Eric said. She took off her t-shirt and trousers, and put them on the bed.

"Climb on the window," Eric said as she returned to the window.

"Why? Can't you just come in? I'll invite you."

"You can't invite me in. This is not your house."

Arlene climbed on the window. "Are we going to the Haugr?"

Eric grabbed her waist and asked her to close the window. "Somewhere safe, although," he started flying away from the window. "I can't guarantee that."

"Why?"

"You're with me. Nobody is safe with me."

Arlene turned her face around, but she couldn't see his face. Something cold touched her cheek.

"We have an unfinished business, you and I," he whispered. "And I intend to finish it."

Arlene's heart jolted, but before she could say anything, Eric had already shot the two of them into the darkness.

xxxxx


	6. Out of the Wolf's  Lair

Chapter Six

**Out of the Wolf's Lair  
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It was a bad landing.

Eric managed to land on the ground, wiggled himself for a moment, and then suddenly, he lost his balance. Bump! Both of them fell to the ground with her on top of him. Thank God! She couldn't imagine how it would've been if it had been the other way around!

Cssss!

"Aaargh!" Eric growled.

Her necklace must have touched his skin. Dear Lord, it must have been painful for him. Arlene wanted to get off of him, but his hands cupped her ass. "Don't move," he hissed. "And take off that fucking necklace!"

"No. It's dark here... I don't know where to put it."

"Put it in my trouser pocket! Quick!"

Arlene took the necklace off and her lower body and searched recklessly for his lower body when she touched something hard. Jesus! Eric was having a hard-on. "Eric!" she said. "We are in the middle of nowhere, in the darkness and you are horny?"

"And?" he said as if it was the most normal thing to happen. "I told you we have some unfinished business."

"And you said sex was the last thing on your mind."

"It was. Come on, Arlene. Do it fast!"

Arlene shoveled the necklace into the first pocket she could find. Eric growled as her hand again touched his dick.

"But I change my mind," suddenly he said, grabbing her waist, and with one flip, he was already on top of her.

"Eric...please...," she pushed him, but he didn't move. "Werewolves and only god knows what other beings are chasing your ass right now...,"

"Yes, I know. But I am busy right now...,"

And he was. His hands were crawling along her side and went to her back to open her bra. "Why do women wear so many clothes," he muttered, "what for, if at the end they will be taken off anyway...,"

"Eric...!" Arlene tried to catch his hands and stopp him from doing it.

Now, both of them moved carelessly in the dark, down on the ground, rubbing each other bodies, without Arlene wanting it. And the stronger they rubbed each other, the stronger her heart beat, and the more she wanted to feel his cold and yet silky skin. When Eric gave up and didn't continue trying to open her bra, Arlene ran her hand under his t-shirt.

"I am hungry," Eric growled. "I am so wanting your blood...," he touched her face. "I want to suck you and then fuck you until I can't move."

He was hungry, and horny!

Arlene shivered. One way or the other, he wanted to be satisfied, and sooner or later, he would get what he wanted, with her or anybody else. "Take me to your place," she whispered. "You can have me there."

"No," he said.

"Why not?"

"Too many people. And I want to have it now, but I can't feed on you."

Somehow, that was a relief. "Why not?"

"The werewolves will notice that you have a new wound. You can't have a new wound, otherwise they would know that you had left your room," he lifted his body and sat beside her.

Arlene got up. "Let's go," she said. "I don't want to be here too long. And I feel uncomfortable – being half naked like this. Somebody might see me."

"We are nowhere. Besides, it's dark. Nobody can see you, not even me, which is a pity." Arlene felt his cold hand on her waist again. She held those hands. "How did you find me?" she asked.

"You have my blood, not as strong as before, but I still can sense it. You were terrified."

"I was; I still am. What happened to your bar?"

"Some werewolves came and demanded to see Herveaux."

"And...?"

"We talked."

_We talked? _"I saw a lot of blood at your place! It doesn't look like a result of a conversation to me!"

Suddenly he lifted her. Arlene couldn't do anything else, but instinctively grabbed anything she could reach with her legs, which happened to be his hip. And before long, she found herself answering his kisses.

"Conversation," Eric said between his kisses, "doesn't always have good results. Sometimes, some people just can't listen." Then, he said something in another language. Arlene didn't understand a word he was saying – no, he wasn't actually saying them, he was growling them. His 'r's were rolled heavily and there were some sounds she couldn't even pronounce.

Carelessly and greedily Eric touched her. His cold hands pressed, squeezed and sometimes scratched her. And as he laid her down, she felt something rough touched her back. Perhaps, it was the grass, or maybe insects, or other small animals. No, she didn't want it. She didn't like imagining some unknown insects crawling on her body, entering her... she pushed him.

"Arlene...," Eric sounded surprised and annoyed at the same time.

Arlene sat down. "You know what, this is really not the right place to do this. I don't want to have animals or insects crawling all over my body!"

"I don't hear or see any. Besides, if there are some, trust me, you will never feel them, if you let me...," he came closer to her, his hands started touching her again.

"Easy for you to say, you're not on the bottom."

"That can be arranged." He pulled her to his arms, and with one movement, they were on the ground again. This time, she was on the top. With one hand, he strongly pushed her ass to his body, touching his dick, which was hard and ready; with the other hand, he held the back of her head and started kissing her.

"Eric," she said as she managed to break his kisses. "I really am not into this. What if ants or spiders enter my ass, or my crack or your? Or maybe a grasshopper suddenly hops on my back, or what if a frog spits at me?"

"Now you are turning me off," he said. "Grasshopper? Frogs? Where do you think we are? In a swamp?"

"How do I know? I can't see a thing."

His cold hands touched her legs. "You are far away from the werewolves."

_And on a vampire. _Arlene got off him. "What happened, Eric? What did you do to me? Why was I suddenly at Jason's place?"

"It seems, I have scared you to death. I flew at you; you screamed and collapsed," his hand crawled softly on her back. "I took you to the bar and asked Merlotte to take you away from there."

"You didn't bite me?"

"Why? Are you sorry that I didn't? I can do it if you want me to."

"Oh, shut it," said Arlene, smiling (she didn't know how she could smile! Shouldn't she be angry or something?)

"We have to go," he said, pulling her off the ground.

"I can't go like this. I need a shirt, t-shirt, something!"

"Take mine," Eric said. A moment later, he handed her his t-shirt.

"But you said, they could sense you. If I wore your t-shirt...,"

"I lied. I wanted us to leave that place as soon as possible. Their smell...upsets my stomach."

Arlene put his t-shirt on. The familiar soft smell wasn't there. Eric didn't wear his cologne. "Where are we going?"

"You'll find out," Eric took her hips, and with her in his arms, he flew into the darkness again.

Xxxxx

"You're late."

A woman, who wore all black leather, stood at the door with her hands on the hips. She's was pale as Eric wearing much too much make-up on her face. Her bright red lipstick was like a beacon on that white marble face. It made her look intimidating.

"Arlene, Pam. Pam, Arlene," said Eric ignoring what she had said.

Pam, one of his assistants. They had met before. Now, she was eying her like an eagle eyed a rabbit. She clearly wasn't happy to see her, or the fact that she was wearing Eric's t-shirt sans trousers, and Eric wore trousers sans t-shirt.

"How's Chow?" asked Eric.

"He fed. He'll survive."

Dear Lord, that was a nice attitude. Didn't this woman have any feeling left?

"She needs a new cloth," Eric said.

"What am I now? Her stylist?"

"Pam," said Eric without turning around. His voice was flat, but the reaction was astonishing. Pam came to Arlene and gave her a sign with her head to follow her.

Pam took her to a room. "There are some clothes in the closet," she said. "You can wear whichever you want."

"Are they yours?" asked Arlene, stealing a look at her. Pam was dressing in bright red glittering disco jumpsuit. Her hair was twisted and curled and she wore such a glamorous make-up, complete with glitter that Arlene thought Pam was going or hosting a party somewhere.

"No," she turned around, walking away.

Perplexed, Arlene went to the closet and opened the door. Woman's clothes. A lot of them. Whose were they? Had they belonged to the women Eric brought here? Her skin crawled. If they were, did it mean the women had been dead?

Arlene stepped away from the closet. There was an urge to close the door, but she realized, she couldn't run around only with Eric's t-shirt. Yes, it was long enough to cover her ass, but still, she didn't feel comfortable wearing only that. She took a deep breath. "Easy, Arlene," she whispered, telling herself it would be just fine.

She took a soft blue blouse. She shrieked when suddenly she heard a voice,

"You will look great in those."

Eric. He was standing right behind her, wearing a black wife-beater and jeans. Showing clearly the shape of his body. Lean, but muscular.

"Jesus, Eric! Can't you knock?"

His eyebrow was lifted. "Yes, I can."

That wasn't a question! Arlene put the blouse on. "Whose house is this anyway?"

"Mine."

"You live here?"

"No, but I use it for some purposes."

"And these...clothes?"

Eric smirked. "One of the girls'."

"One of the girls'?"

"Yes. Some girls come here from time to time. They..."

"Don't tell me," Arlene snatched the jeans. She didn't want to hear whatever he did to or with the girls.

"Pam and I feed on them," Eric ignored her. "They gave their blood willingly for some money."

"No sex?"

"I never pay for sex," Eric sounded annoyed.

"Yeah," Arlene rolled her eyes. "You just glamour them."

Within a blink of an eye, Arlene found herself laying on the bed with Eric on top of her. His fangs were bared; his lips formed a lustful smile. "You'll never forget it, won't you?" his hand touched her neck and slipped down to her blouse.

"No," Arlene looked at his icy blue eyes. "And I don't want you to forget it either. What you did to me was wrong. Morally or legally. If you want to live with us, side by side, treated like an equal, you'd better start learning to respect our law."

"Who said I wanted to?" his face was getting closer.

"So what am I to you? Your food? Your sex toy?"

"Among others," he smirked. "Hmh, the idea of making you my sex toy is not bad at all."

Arlene put her hands on his hips. Eric growled as she slipped them into his jeans' pockets. Something reacted wildly as her hand touched it. Now it's pushing his trousers and touching hers. Dear Lord... this man... this vampire...

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I want this back," said Arlene, taking the necklace out of one of the pockets.

Eric grabbed her hand, but when their eyes met, he let it go. Slowly he raised himself. "I'll let you go this time," he said. "But when everything is over," he straightened himself and pulled her up so she was sitting face to face with him. "You are mine and you should start learning what it means."

"I am nobody's," Arlene, said putting the necklace on and tidying her blouse. "If you want this relationship – whatever it is – to work, you should start learning the meaning too. There's no way that I will let you or anybody else to possess me like some kind of goods!"

He smirked. "I'd like to see how you defend yourself against me," he said. "I promise," he continued quickly. "I will never use any force, unless of course, you want me to."

Arlene lifted her eyebrow. What did that mean? Was he implying bondage? Arlene looked at him, and he looked back at her, smirking. "No way…," she shook her head. "No fucking way…

He came to her and took her hip. As if she weighted nothing, he glided with her in his arms out of the room. Arlene knew, Eric would never tell her what he had meant, and if she asked him, she would have him put that smirk on his face again. Besides, there were more pressing matters she was facing right now; like how to get back to Herveaux' place without getting noticed, and where was Eric taking her?

Her question was answered right away. He took her only to the other room.

"Arlene!" a sound of surprise welcomed her. Sam.

Arlene unwrapped herself from Eric, almost violently that made her feel guilty afterward. It was as if she didn't want to be seen with Eric…she wanted to apologize to Eric, but soon her attention was taken away by a figure, who was lying on the bed. Jackson Herveaux. Pale and wounded. There were some nasty scars across his face and on his left arm.

"I thought you were with Jason," said Sam.

"I was," said Arlene. "But they found out where I was, so Jason and Mel decided to take me to Mel's uncle." She turned to Eric. "You know that the Long Tooth Pack is looking for Mr. Herveaux, don't you?"

"I asked him not to tell anybody, Mrs. Fowler," Jackson was the one who answered. "I don't want them to see me like this."

"But your son is worried about you, Mr. Herveaux. If he thinks the werewolves of Mississippi killed you...,"

"He'll know what to do," Jackson cut her off. "It's better that they don't know my real situation."

"I don't understand," said Arlene. "You are deliberately making your son look for you?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want him to know who has done this. At least not now. There's a bigger problem we all have to face and I don't want his focus to be divided."

"But you could send somebody to them!" Arlene said in disbelief.

"I couldn't even if I wanted to."

"But why?"

Sam came to her and dragged her out of the room. Arlene looked at him perplexed. She had never thought Sam would've dared to do that to her!

"This is a question of life and death for a lot of people, Arlene," he said. "I urge you not to divulge Jackson's whereabouts to anybody. Not even to Alcide."

"He is his son, and he's worried sick about him. He has the right to know, Sam!"

Sam took a deep breath. His brown eyes moved rapidly before he said, "He was attacked by his own people. Somebody inside his pack wants him dead. Do you remember what happened at the office?"

Arlene nodded.

"I knew one of them. He's a Long Tooth Pack member."

"And the massacre that happened at Eric's bar?"

"It wasn't a massacre," Sam drew himself away, as if it was hard for him to continue the next sentence. "It was self-defense. They crossed the line, Arlene. They attacked a vampire's property! It's good that Eric agrees not to continue the feud. Otherwise, the Long Tooth Pack would face a bigger problem than losing their leader. Eric could've brought this attack to the vampires' meeting, and it would be the end of werewolves societies if the vampires got together and retaliated."

Arlene turned her face to the room. Eric didn't want to continue the fights or retaliate. Perhaps, he didn't want to spill more blood. Somehow, it made her see him differently. Eric wasn't as blood thirsty as she thought he would be. And in his own fashion, he knew how to handle matters.

"Why didn't you tell me about who you really are, Sam?" Arlene decided to ask the question.

Sam smiled wryly. "Would you believe if I told you I could change myself into a cat or a dog?"

"Probably not. Did Selah know?"

"Yes."

"Why wasn't she surprised? And all this artificial blood, vampires and other stuff, did she know about that too?"

"Yes."

"And nobody had decency to tell me? I am her business partner, for God's sake! God! I feel so stupid! All these years and knew nothing about what people, whom I call my friends, have done behind my back!"

Sam closed his mouth tight.

"Where is Selah?"

"I don't know."

"Don't lie to me, Sam. I swear to God if you lie to me...,"

"I don't know, Arlene. I swear, I am telling you the truth."

"Don't get so worked up like that, Arlene," Eric's deep soft voice made her turn around. His fangs were bared. "You make it so hard to control my hunger," he walked slowly to her. "Your adrenaline smells so sweet."

Sam pulled her and made her to stand behind him. "Northman...," slowly, but surely his hands changed into an animal's claws.

"Humans!" the cold voice of Pam filled the air. "They cause nothing, but problems."

"Oh, for heaven's sake!" said Arlene, pushing Sam and she took Eric's hand. Eric was hungry. And the way she saw it, there was no other choice but to give him what he wanted. He wanted blood. The earlier he got it, the better it would be for everybody.

"Arlene, I don't think it's a good idea…"

"Shut it, Sam," Arlene cut him off.

"Yeah, shut it, Sam," Eric smirked.

"Where's your room?"

"Hmh, I like a woman who is straight to the point."

"Oh, shut it!"

Eric took her back to the first room she had been in. Arlene stretched her neck and gave it to him, when he said, "No, not there." He touched the neck. "You don't know how much I want to sink my teeth into it, to claim you as mine in the vampire style…,"

"Why don't you?" Arlene was shaken from lust and nerves.

"It's not the right time. Besides, I will only claim you when you are willing to give yourself to me, completely, not because I am hungry." He sniffed the neck. "Until then, our relationship _whatever it is,_" he emphasized the 'whatever it is', "is just sex and blood." He pushed her down to the bed. Soon his hands were busy opening the zipper of her trousers.

"Eric, I said blood and not sex."

"I know," he pulled down her jeans. "And blood it is." He rubbed his nose on her panties, before he licked the inner part of her thigh.

Arlene gasped and grabbed the mattress as she felt Eric's fangs tear into her flesh. Soon her tears rolled down on her cheek, not because of sadness, but because of pain. After awhile, Eric lifted his face. His lips were covered with blood, her blood. His blue eyes were brightened by strange lights.

"Thank you, Arlene," he wiped off his lips and then licked his fingers, as if he was licking something delicious. "I owe you one."

Later that night, when Eric brought her back to the Long Tooth Pack's building, and helped her climb back into her room, Arlene felt weak. She didn't know how much of her blood Eric had taken, but the next time Eric had his hunger attack, she would try the idea of calling the blood prostitute.

As she reached the bed, she let herself fall on the bed and could only thank god when she felt sleepiness win over her mind.

xxxxxx


	7. The Weres and The Vampire

**Author's Note: **Hi, everybody! Hope you're patient enough with my stories. I've been angry with Eric, well not this Eric, but the other Eric. So, I stop writing about him. But well, love is a slippery notorious creature. You never know when or how it gets you. So, when I think I'd never write anything about him anymore, Black sun from Dead Can Dance reminds me how much I love imagining Eric sailing with ship against the rough Northern sea. So, here I am again.

Anyway, I post two chapters in one go, now. Thanks a lot to Vikingrule, at the other end of the world. Nur für Dich, meine Liebe. Nur für Dich.

* * *

><p>Chapter Seven<p>

**The Weres and The Vampire  
><strong>

Arlene woke up with a heavy head and hungry. Her stomach growled as loud as her head banged. She swore, the sound of her stomach was so loud that every bit of her body was nagging her mind to go to the kitchen and stuff her mouth with whatever she saw first.

A woman who seemed to be in charge in the kitchen looked at her with wide eyes as she saw her literally stuffing her mouth with bread.

"'m an'rey" Arlene swallowed a big piece of bread down. "eelie an'rey,"

"Whatever you said, Arlene. It must be true."

Calvin's voice made her turn around. The man was leaning on the corner of the table, holding a big cup. There was a smile across his lips. However, Arlene ignored it. The smell of fresh coffee made Arlene even hungrier, if that's possible.

"Sorry," said Arlene. "I am really hungry."

"Oh, I can see that. Edna here," he pointed the woman with his cup, "is a witch, a master of food. Anybody who ever smelt her food, even from a distance, isn't able to escape from its curse."

"Which is?"

"You can't stop wanting more."

The seriousness in his voice made Arlene think he was being serious till she saw the smile on Edna's face.

"Slept well last night?" asked Calvin.

"Yes, thank you."

Calvin put his cup and walked to Arlene. "Some guys saw the window of your room open. I knocked on your door, but you didn't answer."

"I must have been sleeping."

"Yes, you must have," his jaw moved. Calvin didn't believe her. Somehow, he must have sensed she didn't tell the truth. Arlene hoped he wouldn't push it, because she wouldn't know how to answer it. "Besides," he continued. "You look like you need some."

"Really?"

"Yes. You have rings under your eyes. Some might think you have lost a lot of blood."

The bread she was swallowing went down the wrong way, and she forced it out,. hitting her own chest to stop from coughing.

Calvin handed her a glass of water. "Are you all right?"

Arlene accepted the glass. No, she wasn't. Oh for God's sake, why didn't he ask right away? It would make her feel better.

"You are too tense, Arlene," said Calvin. "Don't worry; you're among friends."

Yeah, hairy friends, who might change their opinions as soon as they found out she was hiding something from them, mainly, the news about their leader. Arlene knew, she couldn't hide that information forever. She also knew when Calvin or Alcide found out she had been hiding the information all along, they wouldn't be very happy about it, to put it lightly. She had to tell them. She just didn't know how.

There's a place that she wanted to go, and to be honest, she missed quite a lot. Her house. Yes, her house, where she'd always felt safe. She knew it would be just an illusion to think it would stay the same, after what had happened to her, but at least, it's the only place she's familiar with, and felt comfortable, her sanctuary.

"Do you think Alcide will mind if I go home?" Arlene decided to ask Calvin. "I can't stay here."

"If you're worried about their safety..."

"No, that's not what I am worried about."

"But?"

"I need to go back to my normal life, do my daily things...,"

"But your life isn't normal anymore, Arlene," Calvin looked at her straight in the eyes. His look was so sharp that Arlene felt her skin crawl. "The day you took a vampire back to your place is the day your so called normal life ended. He will be like your shadow, follow you everywhere whether you like it or not."

Trying to avoid his gaze, Arlene turned her face away, watching Edna washing the dishes. "Tell me about it."

"How did you get involved in any of this, anyway? You don't seem like a woman who looks for problems."

Arlene sipped her coffee. "A mistake," she said. "I mistook Eric for someone else."

"Really? You've mistook Eric Northman for someone else?" he sounded unconvinced then he chuckled. "Nobody ever did that; it must have been a huge blow to his ego."

Arlene turned to him. "You seem to know him."

"Yeah, we know him. We have business with him from time to time."

"We? Business?"

"The supernaturals. He's a good businessman; tough, but fair. And he seems to know everybody and every place." It sounded like a compliment. But his face was hard and his voice was flat. "And you, what kind of business were you into?"

Arlene couldn't tell Calvin that it was sex business that brought them together, but she also didn't want Calvin to misunderstand or misinterpret the depth or the value of their relationship. "It was a blind date," she said. "I was supposed to meet a man for a drink. Eric met the description, and I thought it was him."

Calvin looked at her, raised his eyebrows quizzically, then he laughed, mockingly. "Eric Northman was picked up by a woman by mistake... that's good. Really good."

Yeah, right; however, Arlene smiled. Somehow it was good to feel a bit relaxed.

"Arlene," Calvin's voice sounded serious again. "I've been thinking. If you want to leave this place and return to your place or mine, perhaps, my niece Crystal can stay with you for a while, for protection."

"Do you think Alcide will agree?"

"What can he do? It's true that you are protected here, but you are also isolated from information and from people who want to get in touch with you."

"Even when it means there might be people who want to harm her?" Alcide appeared out of nowhere. Edna dried up her hands and left the kitchen without being told.

"Consider this, Alcide: whether she stays here or not, she still has a job to do. She can't leave her clients out to dry and hope that they don't mind. And if you want Selah to contact her, she'd be better to stay at her place than here. Selah wouldn't take the chance to come here and put herself in danger, knowing that you blame her for your father's disappearance."

"You blame Selah?" Arlene looked at him. "She doesn't even know that your father is disappeared!"

Alcide's jaws moved. "You certainly know how to gain the trust, don't you Norris?"

Calvin sniffed.

Arlene didn't know what Alcide meant by that, but she realized, the mood in the kitchen became tense. They were both fighting over her. Why, she wasn't sure.

"Northman will come to get her, sooner or later. Are you sure you want to confront him?"

"We are strong enough against him."

Calvin snorted. "You wish you _were_ strong enough. Even if you were strong enough, surely you don't wish to make him your enemy."

"The way I see it, this place is the safest place for her. We have people, security cameras, weapons...,"

"And you think it would prevent Eric from entering these grounds?"

Alcide looked at Calvin, and then at Arlene. He sniffed, and Arlene cringed as he snarled. "You've seen him." It wasn't an a question; it was an accusation.

"I did," Arlene didn't see any other way but to confess.

"When?"

"Last night."

"Last night? He couldn't enter the grounds without anybody noticing!"

Didn't they know he could fly?

"What?" asked Alcide. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

Like what? Arlene blinked.

"How could you see him, if he couldn't enter the grounds?" Alcide walked toward her. His eyes flickered dangerously. Arlene swore, those teeth were bigger than normal. "HOW?"

_Dear__Lord..._Arlene walked backward. The coffee spilled over as she touched something cold and square with her back. She looked at Calvin for help, but he was also as curious as Alcide, only less angry. "I don't know," she said and forced herself to looked into Alcide's eyes. She's a lawyer, for Christ's sake! If she couldn't lie with straight face, she maybe better consider changing her job!

"Did you invite him in?"

"No. I opened the window and climbed out. What happened after that, I don't remember. He glamoured me."

"For somebody who didn't know vampires existed until recently, you surely know a lot about what they can do," said Alcide. Then, he went silenct. "I have to tighten the perimeter," he said, to nobody. Then after a while, "What do you have in mind, Arlene?"

"I'd like to go back to my apartment and do my work. I can't afford to lose my clients." As she ended the sentence, a worried feeling came over her. Her office, all the documents which were there, Holly...Dear Lord...Holly...Arlene touched the necklace. She prayed nothing had happened to Holly.

"I think about it," Alcide took a cup and poured some coffee. "Until then, my decision is clear, you stay here."

* * *

><p>It was late in the afternoon when Alcide came to tell her he agreed to let her return to her apartment. With one condition, one of his men would come to stay with her. No negotiation. If she refused, she stayed put. Arlene told him that she already had somebody to protect her. Alcide snarled and said, he wouldn't leave his father's fate in the hands of a Hotshoter. Calvin's jaws moved as he heard the word. Obviously, 'Hotshoter' was a kind of insult word to the ears of the people of Hotshot.<p>

"One of my people will be with her," said Calvin with an as-matter-of-fact voice.

"Why are you so interested in this, Norris? What is she to you?" Arlene heard Alcide hissing, but she didn't hear the answer from Calvin. In her eyes, Alcide was paranoid. He seemed to doubt everybody outside his pack who offered him help. He should have been more worried about his own people. One of them was a traitor, Jackson was sure of that. The earlier Alcide realized that, the better it would be. But Jackson also didn't want her to tell Alcide about it, which was for her a contracted pledge. How was Alcide supposed to know, if nobody told him?

Arlene left the Haven with a heavy heart. As Calvin's car slowly drove away from the Haven's area, Arlene turned around to see it one more time. The building was like any other buildings in the area. Its walls were gray, and surrounded by the wire. Who would guess that behind those walls were people who could shift themselves into wolves? And who would guess that they were organized and behaved like any paramilitary organization, with a young man, much younger than herself as a leader. A paranoid young man, who was desperate to find his Father.

"Do you know who Alcide will send to my place, Calvin?"

"No," Calvin said. "But whoever he is, you don't have to worry, Arlene. My niece is more than capable of handling any dog."

Arlene looked at him. "You don't think too highly of the werewolves, do you?"

Calvin sneered. "No. They are cowards. They are brave when only when they fight in packs. As soon as they're alone, they put their tail between their legs."

He really disliked them. Arlene could only hope, he would keep his feelings or opinions to himself. The last thing she needed right now was to have any additional problems. "Who do you think Alcide will send?" she decided to change the subject.

"His most trusted werewolf, I bet. The second in command."

"Oh yeah, who is he?"

"It's a she. Her name is Annabelle Hoffman."

"A woman," Arlene felt relieved. "That's good." Calvin would send his niece to protect her, and so would Alcide. Three women at one place. That's good. At least, she didn't have to think about awkwardness or any other uncomfortable situation that might occur.

* * *

><p>Home sweet home.<p>

Arlene threw herself down at the sofa after Calvin left. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The quietness that surrounded her was bliss. After some days of confusing and hectic, this was exactly what she needed. Some moments of quietness, doing nothing, but just closed her eyes and listened to nothingness.

Somewhere deep inside her mind, she wished everything had never happened. She wished she hadn't known the existence of vampires, werewolves and any other supernaturals. She wished, the day that had started everything had never existed. That she had never accepted Selah's birthday present or agreed to let Eric take her home and entered her life.

Eric.

Why did he have to be so persuasive making her losing any control she might have? Arlene sighed. Why hadn't she able to say no to him? Had he glamoured her somehow?

No, he wouldn't do that. Eric was a proud man...a vampire. He wouldn't glamour a woman to make her sleep with him. All of his behavior told her that Eric was the kind of man who liked to break his women's will, conquer them, either with his physical force or his charm. Making a woman surrender with the use of glamor in which she had no control over her will or didn't even remember the reason she did it would be too easy for him, too cowardly.

_You __definitely __give __him __too __much__ credit, _an inner voice in her said, _he's __a__ vampire,__you're __a__ human.__You're __nothing __but __a__ food__ to __him._

Oh, shut up!

_You__ shut__ up,_ it said again. _You're __in__ a__ dangerous__ and __uncertain__ situation,__ and__ what__ are you thinking anyway__?__ Thinking __about__ Eric,__ the__ very__ person__ who__ dragged__ you__ into __it!__ He's__ a__ vampire,__ don't__ give__ him__ too__ much__ credit,__ you__ might__ regret __it __one__ day._

Bang, bang, bang!

The loud knocking on the door broke the conversation she was having with herself. Lazily, Arlene got up and opened the door.

A woman was standing on the other side of the door. She's rather small. Her black hair was tied behind her head. Her khaki shirt and trousers made her look like a ranger. Especially with the black boots and black belt. The only thing that was missing from her outfit was the hat. Yes, if she had worn a hat, she could've been easily mistaken as a Texas ranger.

"Arlene Fowler?"

"Yes?"

"You shouldn't open the door, and you shouldn't give away your name too easily," the woman pushed the door and her with it. "I could be anybody and I could kill you."

Wow, friendly. "Annabelle Hoffman?"

She sniffed. "Yes," she looked around and said, "Eric Northman works fast, I have to admit that. Bastard!"

Arlene closed the door and looked around. Annabell was right. Her apartment looked just like before the attack. Everything was in its place. The table, sofa and other small tidbits. Even the color of the wall paper was the same! Except some pictures. They're gone. Perhaps, they had too much blood on them so Bobby and his men decided not to replace them or put them back.

"You know Eric Northman?"

"Yes, and what he's capable of. You shouldn't let him in."

"He saved me once. Besides, he's not a danger to me."

Annabelle looked at her. From her head down to her toes, then snorted. "Women! One fuck, and they think they have been fucked by a god!"

Arlene felt her blood burning. "Look, Annabelle... I am thankful that you are here to protect me, but I really don't need any comments about me or Eric. If you want to able to continue doing your job, you'd better keep your opinions to yourself!"

Her eyebrow was lifted. "It's neither my or your decision," she said. Short and cold. Then, she went to the bedroom.

"Excuse me, what are you doing?"

"Checking the location," she said. "I have to make sure that everything is according to the Long Tooth security standard."

"If your thinking about putting camera surveillance inside my house, you'd better call Alcide right now and tell him, he can fuck himself!" Arlene couldn't contain her anger anymore.

Annabelle smirked. "I want to be there when you say that," she said. "It will be very interesting."

_Fuck! _Arlene cursed. She had a feeling, Annabelle would be just another nightmare!

After a while, Annabelle left her bedroom. "Look," she said with her hands on her hips. "You and I will be stuck together for some time. Let's make the best of it. You need our protection, and somehow Alcide thinks we need you to find his father."

Arlene took a deep breath, trying to press her anger down. "Do whatever you want," she said finally. "But I don't want to have a camera in my bedroom."

Annabelle smirked, mocking her. "Don't worry. Eric Northman isn't my type, and I am not that curious to find how he is in bed."

"Are you always this direct?"

"If it's about Northman, yep."

"Why? Do you have a history with him, or...?"

Annabelle licked her lips. "No, I don't have any history with him, and never care to have. Where's your kitchen?"

Annabelle swept the whole apartment. She checked every room carefully and afterward, she drew some sketches, which indicated the position of the rooms and minute details of each room . Then, she made a few phone calls.

Arlene had to admit, she was impressed by the way Annabelle worked. It seemed she's the kind of person who took everything seriously and was very thorough. Details are important, Annabelle said when Arlene asked what she was doing. Everything is in the details. Somehow, it made her sympathetic towards her. If she could ignore the rudeness and snarks Annabelle had, somehow she believed, they could be friends, or at least have a better working relationship.

It was around eight o'clock when Crystal came. Like her uncle, she was slightly built, and had an amazingly sharp pair of eyes. Bright orange light glinted in them when she was introduced to Annabelle. Annabelle sniffed, and Crystal snarled.

Their dislikes were mutual.

After dinner (Arlene was surprised when she found that her fridge was full of food. At first, she wondered who had filled it up, but then she smiled when she found a note on the middle shelf, beside a red liquid contained in a beautiful small crystal jar, "You like? - E."), which was cold, due to the silence and unfriendly stares between Crystal and Annabelle, Arlene went to her room. She was tired, she said. She wanted to sleep early. Tomorrow, she wanted to go to her office and see what she could do there.

She was about to lay down when she realized, she didn't remember when the hearing for Jason's case was anymore! She got up. Dear Lord! She had to call the clerk at the court tomorrow early! She looked around. Where was that address book? It must have be in her study room. Hopefully, those werewolves didn't touch that room.

She was about to open the door, when she heard Annabelle's voice. "Stay inside, Arlene!"

What? No, not in her own house, and no, she didn't want to run anymore.

She pushed the door open. Beside the door was Sam, standing with his hands raised. And Eric, who smirked as soon as he saw her. "Mrs. Fowler," he nodded. His voice was thick with mockery. Annabelle and Crystal were standing beside each other, with their hands open like claws, with long black finger nails on the tip of each finger.

"Sam, what are you doing here?"

"You know this shifter?" asked Crystal.

"Yes, he's my secretary."

"And this vampire?" Annabelle moved her head.

"I thought you knew Eric Northman," Arlene was perplexed. Hadn't she talked about him, like she had encountered him, up close and personal?

"I'd heard of," said Annabelle. Arlene wished she could see her face, because her voice sounded unsure.

So all those blah, blah, blah...were...?

Suddenly, Eric was already standing beside her, pushing Crystal and Annabelle aside, as if they had been nothing. "And they sent these useless weak weres to protect you," he hissed. "Don't even think about it!" his voice was deep and had a commanding tone that couldn't be missed. First, Arlene didn't know what he meant, but then she saw, both women were raising their claws.

"Why...are you... here, Eric?"

"I asked him to come with me, Arlene," Sam said. "I want to tell you that we took care of Jason's hearing."

"You what?" Arlene craned her neck to see Sam.

"You have enough on your plate already," Eric touched her face. The coldness of his finger sent shivers right down her spine. "You don't need to think about any other thing."

"What do you mean? Did you glamour the judge?"

Eric smirked.

"Un-glamour it!" said Arlene, almost screaming.

All eyes in the room looked at her.

"I've worked my ass off to reach this position," Arlene felt her head was about to explode. The memory of night after night preparing her case flashed in front of her eyes. It wasn't a big case, but it was a case like any other case. As a lawyer from a new firm she had to work harder than any other to win the trust of her clients, new or old. Her firm didn't have a reputation yet, and her own name wasn't as big as John's or any other lawyers at John's firm. "I am not going to let you or anybody else to destroy my hard work!"

Eric looked at her. His eyes were twinkling.

"Un-glamor it!"

"Or what?"

Arlene took a deep breath. Her chest was burning. Nobody challenged her without getting any consequences. _Show__ him__ who __you__ are, __Arlene,_ the inner voice whispered in her head again. _He__ needs __to __learn __to__ respect__ you._"Eric Northman...,"

Eric stepped back. "Arlene, don't do it...," his eyes were getting colder. "...look at me, Arlene. Look at me now!"

_Turn away, Arlene. He's going to glamour you. _

Son of a bitch! Her chest was getting hotter. "I take back my invitation. Get the fuck out of my house!"

As if being sucked by an unseen power, Eric moved backward. The door opened by itself, and bump! Eric was thrown against the wall. He stood up on his feet in no time, and was growling. "Arlene, invite me in now!"

Arlene turned around and went into her room.

"Arlene...Annabelle, let me talk to her..."

"No can't do, Sam."

"Arlene!" Eric called out her name. "Don't be such a pig-headed..."

Bump! Arlene smashed the door closed. _Pig-headed, __my__ass!_

_xxxxxx_


	8. The Judge

**Chapter 8**

**The Judge  
><strong>

"Eric Northman," that smile was as teasing as he could remember. "What have I done to deserve this honor?"

He waited until the man who was standing beside the table, taking notes was sent out. "Still like having a man beneath you, I see."

She laughed. The wrinkles around her eyes looked more deeper. Human. What a waste. That smooth skin would've remained smooth if only she had agreed to be turned. "And you are still tactless as ever. What can I do you for, Eric?"

"What has made you think I'd need your help?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Tell me, Eric, have you forgotten me, of who I am and what I am capable of? Surely fifteen years of human life hasn't blurred your memory, has it?"

No, he hasn't forgotten who she is or what she's capable of. She is and will always be the woman who brought him to his knees. Literally and mentally. He smirked. Not that he didn't enjoy it. The literally part, especially.

"How are you, Eric? What kind of problem has Pam brought you into this time?"

"It isn't about Pam."

"Now, that's something new. Who is she?"

He was about to open his mouth, when she continued. "Oh, don't pretend to be shocked, Eric. You won't do anything unless it's beneficial for you."

"You know me. Sue me," he raised his hands.

She laughed. "I'd have a better idea, but let's save it for later," she winked flirtatiously. "Who is she?"

_That stubborn, irrational, pigheaded, ball breaking_..."Arlene Fowler."

The sign of laughter left her face. She cleared her throat, and fixed the collar of her jacket.

Obviously, she knew something he didn't.

"You don't know what you're dealing with, Lover," she said. The seriousness on her face alerted him. "I know, I know, you'd tell me, you've lived for hundreds of years already, nothing would surprise you anymore."

He waited.

"But this is simply too big for you. Yes, unfortunately, Eric. It's too big, even for the great Eric Northman."

He didn't move. He didn't even raise a muscle.

"How do you know her?"

"She's an assignment."

"Then you know who she is."

"Yes, a lawyer of a small firm."

"But not her husband's."

"Her ex-husband," he corrected her, and somehow he didn't know why he had bothered to correct her in the first place. It didn't make any difference. He still fucked her nevertheless. And by Thor, why did he even think about fucking her? That insufferable, pig headed, irrational...

"Ah, you _knew_ her indeed."

Something in her voice made him feel uneasy. She knew there was something more between him and Arlene. Was there something in his own voice or gesture that had given him away?

"Why do you come here, Eric? You are not trying to get any information from me about John Fowler, are you?"

"No. I come here to ask you a favor," he walked toward her. "You are the judge for one of her cases, the Stackhouse Case?"

"I might, why?"

"You think you could do something with its scheduling? I need Mrs. Fowler to finish my assignment."

"Mrs. Fowler...interesting," those full lips teased him. "And what, does Mrs. Fowler want you to do with me? To get what you want, I mean."

"I can tell you what she doesn't want me to do," he sniffed. The image of him being thrown out of Arlene's apartment flashed in front of his eyes. "She doesn't want me to glamour you."

"What exactly did you say...," she laughed, mockingly. "Did you tell her you'd taken care of it by glamouring me?"

No, he hadn't. The shifter had.

"And she's angry with you? Is that why you've come here?" Again, she laughed mockingly, which made him lose his control. Without being able to stop himself, he had already lifted her from her chair and pressed her against the wall.

"I am not that young anymore, Lover," instead of complaining, she smiled. Her hand ran to his back, and plop, plop, she kicked her shoes off her feet and wrapped them around his waist. "Whoever she is, she has you in her grasp. I hope she has a strong enough pull to keep you hers."

"I am nobody's," he grabbed her ass rather hard. She sighed.

"Pam's, perhaps?"

"Like I said, I am nobody's." He walked to the table and gently put her on it.

"I can do what you want, but you have to pay. Would you mind opening the drawer?"

He did what she said. A handcuff lay not so innocently in it. Its silver color made him hiss.

"It's not silver, Eric." She took the handcuff and lay it on the table. "Now, would you do anything for Mrs. Fowler, the way you did for Pam? Remember, when you came to my house...,"

"I didn't come to your place. I stumbled upon it."

"Technicality, Eric. You and your technicalities. Does it matter when the result is the same?"

"You're a judge. Technicality should be your means of justice."

"Not in this question, Lover...," her hand ran inside his trousers. "Hmh," she sounded disappointed. "You used to impress me at the first sight."

"May be I am also not that young anymore."

"You, Eric Northman, were never young to begin with." Her fingers caressed his shaft. "Anyway, you were willing to risk your safety by being handcuffed and tied on my bed. Just for Pam."

He remembered that. They had just managed to get away from a fight with a horde of werewolves and some men, equipped with bows and arrows. Pam was heavily wounded, and the sun was rising. He had had to find a place for rest. And the only place nearby was her mansion.

"I wonder," she took the handcuff, "if you'd do the same this time. For Mrs. Fowler, or better, something I know about John Fowler's firm."

He growled. No, not for John Fowler's firm or any other firm. Its big or small secrets.

"You know what to do, Eric." Now, her hands were on his ass, following its shape gently. "Hmh," she said. "I like a man who doesn't wear any underwear."

He looked at her. "The older you are, the dirtier you get," he smiled.

"I take that as a compliment. Well, Eric? Time is running out. I can't keep my secretary out forever."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Just be a good boy, and keep your hands on the table." She took her hands out of his trousers. "You think you could do that?"

* * *

><p>"How are you, Eric?" she buttoned her blouse. It had lost the top one, and gave him a view of her breasts. They were still voluptuous as he remembered, but they also showed the signs of aging. Their skin wasn't smooth anymore, and like the corner of her eyes, there were some wrinkles here and there. "I mean in general."<p>

"I am fine, still trying to save Pam from time to time, but in general, I can't complain. How about you?" with one snatch, the handcuff, that connected to the iron bar at the table side, was broken. He was about to close his zipper, when she said, "Let me do that." He lifted his hands.

She closed the zipper and lay her head on his chest. "You broke my handcuffs."

He kissed her forehead. "I believe this is not the only handcuffs you have in this very room."

She looked up. Her brown eyes looked peaceful. He liked watching women's eyes after he had had sex with them. Some of them were bright and shiny; and some, like hers, were peaceful. It gave him a good feeling to know that his women were satisfied.

"Promise me you'll be more careful, Eric. Your involvement with the Fowlers worries me."

"Don't I always?"

"Seriously, Eric. You shouldn't underestimate them. I don't know much about Arlene Fowler, but her husband's firm has taken care of some cases, which involved some of your people."

He was alert. This news was new to him. "How many?"

"Too many and too often to be called coincidence." She hugged him. "Be careful, Eric. I don't want to be the one who buries you."

"Don't be melodramatic. I'd be the one who buries you, if you keep on being stubborn like this and don't let me tu...," he removed part of the hair that covered her neck. He kissed it. Its warmth sent shriver down to his bones. How he missed to feel this kind of warmth coming from his own skin. To hear the heartbeat coming from his chest. Click, his fangs were out. How he missed it.

"Aargh," she let out a gasp as his fangs tore apart her flesh, but she didn't let him go. She let out the little sounds that turned him on since the first time he had heard them.

She smiled when she saw the bulk in his trousers as they let each other go. "I wonder," she wiped off something on the corner of his mouth. "If you want me or my blood more."

He took his wrist to his mouth and wanted to bite it, but she shook her head.

"No, thank you, Eric. I want to keep the wounds this time. As a souvenir. Who knows, when you are coming for dinner again."

"Be mine and you don't have to wonder."

"But then, you won't be able to feed from me."

"You won't be able to do it, sooner or later," and he was afraid, it'd be sooner than later.

"Until then, I'd make myself ready and available for you."

"Just be careful."

Her eyes were twinkling. "Don't I always?"

He smiled. He liked her spirit, her naughtiness and most of all, her willingness to try something new.

"About Mrs. Fowler," her voice sounded official. "I can only give you two weeks, maximum. I can't delay it too long without raising suspicious. And send her to my office. I want to get to know her."

"I can't...do that."

Her eyebrow was lifted. "Why?"

"She doesn't want to be helped. You'll have to find an excuse...,"

"Did I hear it right? She doesn't want to be helped? Tsk, tsk, tsk, Lover. You are losing your touch."

He clenched his jaw. "Not in a hundred years."

"Then may be it's been one hundred years...,"

He cupped her head and kissed her. "You and your mouth," he growled as he let her go. "One of these days, I'll come to your place and show you who the real master is."

She rolled her smile. "Now, that's something both you and I know it is not going to happen," she moved away from him.

"You don't think I can handle you?"

"Oh, I do believe you can handle me just fine," she opened one of the filing cabinets. "I just think you won't come. You're too...what is the right word for it... infatuated? Yes, you're too infatuated by Mrs. Fowler," she removed a folder. "You won't stop chasing her until she becomes yours. Is that why you still come to me?"

"Yes, and some other things."

"I know I am not that bad," she opened the folder. "Jason Stackhouse... is he a member of Long Tooth?"

"Not that I know of."

"Alcide Herveaux seems to care a lot about him."

He had never met Stackhouse and didn't have any intention to doing so. "I do hope you can give Arlene a little more time. I'm afraid, two weeks won't be enough."

"It's not a big case, Eric. She will be able to handle it in no time."

"I know. I just want her to concentrate more on us than her court duties."

"Sorry, Lover. I can't give you more time," she closed the folder and returned it to its place. "But I can give you more information about John Fowler's firm. Just give me some days to collect the data...,"

"No, that's not a good idea. I don't want you to get involved in any of this. If they're as dangerous as you say they are, it'd be better if you stay away from it."

"All right, if that's what you want. You know you can always access my deposit account, don't you? I still use the same password."

"No, Salome. I mean it. Keep away from it. Don't force me to use your own handcuffs on you."

"Eric Lover, hell will freeze over the day you do that."

* * *

><p>"Do you have to go to that woman?" Pam didn't look amazed. Her red latex jumpsuit looked as dangerous as the eye rolling she had given him.<p>

"She saved your life. Don't ever forget it." He opened the Corvette door.

"Yes, Master," she said, but her voice didn't sound sincere. "I don't think I'd forget that, since you always return with half a handcuff around your wrist every time you see her."

He got into the car, sliding down and removed the handcuff. The skin on his wrist bled from the cutting, but only for a moment. Rapidly, it closed again. Carelessly he threw it out the window.

"I have nothing against you seeing another woman, and probably don't have anything to say about it...,"

"Then don't," he cut her off.

She looked at him. "Is this Arlene woman really worth it? You don't normally fuc...take...," she changed her word when her eyes met his. "...a human woman for another human woman."

"I didn't do it for Arlene."

"Of course you didn't."

Again, there's an insincerity in her voice that couldn't be missed.

"Drive."

Pam started the car and moved away from the Court parking lot. "You know I could do it for you, right?"

"I know. But it's been a long time since the last time."

Pam snorted. "From all the crazies out there, you choose Salome Bellefleur."

He touched the cheeks of his protegée. "I chose only the best. You should've known that."

"Yeah right," she said, smiling. "What is it that makes you come back to her? Her handcuffs, whips and god knows what she has in her trunk, or the sex itself?"

He looked at the road ahead of them, which was illuminated by the car lights. "That, and other things."

Salome Bellefleur was one of the most influence judges in town. She came from a respectable family and had a lot of connections. She's tough, but fair. Not so many knew, she had a taste for sex that some might consider as strange or sick. She was sadomasochism . She, and millions of other people. He didn't care about it. What he needed was her connection. She knew important people in high places; more than that, her family had been a member of an organization that had built a bridge between humans and supernaturals. Besides, as he found out, being ordered around and served wasn't that bad after all. He didn't have to take charge or have the initiative all the time. The women could do it, if they wanted. And Salome always wanted it.

Besides, she gave him a loyal worker. Terry Bellefleur, her cousin, and another cousin of hers had something precious. Andy Bellefleur was a well-liked figure among the shifters and weres. If he could get Andy Bellefleur on his side, it would make his job a lot of easier.

"Her Majesty called," Pam said. "She is expecting you, Eric."

"What does she want?"

"She didn't say, but I think, she waits for your report."

He cursed. It wasn't the right time. Arlene had just kicked him out of her apartment, and he still didn't know where Selah was. Moreover, Jackson Herveaux was still weak. He couldn't take care of himself yet, if the second attack happened again tonight. However he knew, the Queen's wish couldn't be refused.

He took out his phone, dialed some number and then, "Good Evening, Your Majesty."

"Eric Northman," the voice on the other line was soft and had a strong French accent. "It's about the time."

Dealing with her, it's never the right time. "I'll be there in half an hour, your Majesty."

"Make it ten minutes."

Clack.

The line was cut off.

"Stop the car," he said.

Pam drove to the side of the road and stopped the car.

"Go straight to Jackson," he said. "Call everybody. I don't want to have any surprises again."

"Yes, Eric."

He opened the door and got out. Then he shot himself to the air. Vaguely he heard Pam scolding somebody. "What are you looking at? Yeah, yeah, he can fly. He's Superman."


	9. The Queen

**Author's Note: **To Vikingrule and RedEmma.

Thanks, V. As always.

In my mind, I hold you tight, Emma. And share one or two stories about chewed yarn and familiar noises during the full moon.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>

**The Queen  
><strong>

"Mississippi has left a message for you," Sigebert welcomed him as he landed on the ground. He looked nervous.

There were not many things that could make Sigebert – a warrior in his human life, nervous. He had been through: The French Revolution, small wars between kingdoms in Europe, two World Wars; he had even been involved in Vietnam War! Let's say, he is not a kind of man you want to mess with. He was tall and built solid. He had flame red hair, which he let grow to the shoulder from time to time. His beard, which was also red, was always trimmed and neat. His voice was deep and gruff. He had been living for centuries in America, but one could still hear his German accent. Most of all, he had a pair of blue eyes, which were cold and alert.

However, if there was something or somebody who could make him nervous, one of them would be the King of Mississippi.

"_Wo ist die kleine Suße_?"

A deep voice emerged from behind Sigebert. _Die kleine Suße –_ the sweet little girl, was the way in which Wybert, Sigebert's brother, referred to Pam. Eric wasn't sure if that's the correct way to describe her. Because Pam was neither little nor sweet.

"She's taking care of a werewolf."

Sigebert looked more and more nervous. "Who?"

"A Long Tooth."

"Oh-oh," said Wybert.

He had seen how nervous Sigebert could be, but Wybert was somebody different. He was the crazier of the two of them. Physically, both of them looked the same. The only difference was Wybert had a long scar across his face, and he smiled a lot. The kind of smile that would make you wonder if he smiled because he was happy, or because he had something behind his back for you and not in a good way. Sigebert told him once, Wybert was the berserker in their group – a group of soldiers who once had belonged to a small Count deep in Saxony. He had known some berserkers when he was still human. Even back then, he always thought the berserker had a few loose screws inside their head that made them unable to think rationally anymore.

And now, Wybert had said, 'Oh-oh,". He never liked that expression, because it meant only one thing: a problem.

"What?" he asked.

"It's going to get messy." Then, Wybert spoke in old German, that Eric didn't understand entirely. Sigebert looked at his brother, then nodded at him and left.

"I asked him to take care of the security," Wybert said. "I don't want him to be around The Queen, at least not now. She's having one of her bad moods."

"How bad?"

"Very bad. A 'I-don't-speak' bad mood. I'd be more pleased if she started screaming and throwing something."

Eric clenched his jaw.

Queen Sophie-Anne, the Queen of Vampires' in the realm of Louisiana, was well known for her temper. She could be soft and mellow one minute, and then change into a raging killing machine, who would kill you without blinking just because you gave her a wrong look. She was petite. No higher than his chest, she looked vulnerable most of the time. Her figure was tiny with a flat chest and ass almost like a boy's. She couldn't have been older than fifteen years when she was turned, but according to vampire years, she was older than him. One or two hundred years older, he couldn't really tell. Once, at one of her parties, when she was drunk (she liked feeding from girls or boys who were drunk or high because of drugs so that she could be drunk too), she had told him about King Hugo Capet of France. During one of his hunting sessions, in which he normally took her with him, they would make a bet, play a game, whoever would befirst to kill a wolf or any animal. As a reward, whoever won, would do the winner's bidding. He didn't want to imagine what kind of bidding either King Hugo or Sophie-Anne would ask, knowing how temperamental she was. But one thing for sure, King Hugo Capet of France had ruled in the year of 980s. It was long before Eric was even born. Or at least that's what one of the Internet sites wrote. And who could tell how old she was already back then?

If there was one thing that taught him how to survive these long years of life, 'never challenge an older vampire' was one of them.

The main hall of the palace, which were decorated with small delicate figures made of ceramic was quiet. The pale humans who were standing around didn't move either. At the center of the room was a pale young girl with a seemingly timid demeanour, who was sitting on a golden sofa. Her sheer long broken white gown couldn't hide the shape of her body. She indeed had nothing that showed any signs of adulthood. Her chest was flat – he wasn't even sure if her breasts had grown yet, and she still had baby fat on her face.

Not so far from her was a pool of blood with a head of a man. From the last expression on his face, it showed clearly that he hadn't met a pleasant ending. His mouth was twisted and his eyes were wide open.

"Eric Northman, Mutter," said Wybert. As if he didn't want to say anything wrong, his voice was low.

_Mutter._ Wybert called Sophie-Anne 'mother'. In a way, it was weird. A strong built man like Wybert called a fragile young girl like Sophie-Anne 'Mother'. But it was. She was his maker. In fact, Sophie-Anne had three 'children'. The Berts and one other male vampire, Paul André, but he was nowhere to be seen. Obviously, everybody was afraid of her tonight. Even André.

Queen Sophie-Anne raised her head and moved her hand. Without being told twice, every figure in the room left, except Eric and Wybert.

"Jake," she pointed at the head, "Eric. Eric, Jake. Since," Queen Sophie-Anne got up, "Mississippi was kind enough to deliver the message personally, I thought you might like to get to know the messenger," she looked at him, "personally."

"I am afraid I wasn't lucky enough to get to know that gentleman," he said.

Her brown eyes flickered dangerously. "Where is the document?"

He cleared his throat. "I don't have it...yet."

"It is not too much for you, is it, Eric... the task? Or do you need somebody else to do it for you?"

He didn't answer.

"All you have to do is just to get a simple stupid document and you tell me you don't only need more than a week to get it done, but also you cost me one of my men."

"It's complicated, Your Majesty."

"I don't need to hear...EXCUSES!" she grabbed the nearest object and threw it at him. Brak! The vase broke into pieces as it hit the wall just behind him. He could feel how sharp the wind was as the vase had flown very close beside his face. She hadn't seriously aimed at him. Otherwise, he would've been bleeding by now.

"I don't care if you have to fuck, turn or kill her, I want to get that document! Or are you telling me that you are losing your touch, Viking?"

It was the second time that somebody told him he was losing his touch. Somehow it started bothering him. Something about Arlene Fowler had awakened his curiousity. Never before had a woman bluntly told him to leave and not to worry about glamoring her. She would forget him as soon as the morning came. Naturally, there were several women who said that. But that was before he had finished with them. After the sex, they would hold on to him like a tie hung on the neck. Some even suffocated him so that he had to wipe out their memory clean.

"I wasn't aware that you had sent other men to take care the assignment that was supposed to be mine," he tried to change the subject. As much as he tried to pretend that her comment hadn't bothered him at all, he had a burning feeling as if he had sat on fire.

Her eyebrow lifted. "I wasn't aware that you had any knowledge whatsoever about what I did or didn't do."

He bowed. "Forgive me, Your Majesty. I didn't mean it that way."

"I sent this werewolf...," she stopped her sentence and looked at Wybert who stood behind him. "Pam is taking care of a Long Tooth? Who?"

He turned to Wybert. He had heard from several people, that the Queen and her children were able to communicate via their thoughts, but he had never seen them doing it, till tonight. She couldn't have heard about Pam, unless Wybert had told her. Just now.

"Jackson Herveaux," he decided to answer. The Queen was in a miserable mood. It's better to play safe by giving her what she wanted.

"So it is true," she sat down. Her face looked bitter. "Mississippi accused you of interferring with their matters. Of course I said no. You were doing my bidding. You were strictly ordered to stay away from any business that might have anything to do with Mississippi. Then he said, he had found one of my worthless cockroaches sneaking around in his area and he wanted me to tell you to keep your fingers inside your own pockets. HE TOLD ME WHAT TO DO.!..," then she spoke rapidly in French. He didn't know what it meant, but he could only assume it wasn't something pleasant. As a ruler, she wasn't used to being ordered around, not even by another ruler. They said, the King of Mississippi was actually a small man. He was less than 6 feet tall. But those who ever saw his brown eyes, they would say the same thing, those brown eyes contained nothing but darkness. As vampires they got used to living in the darkness, but the darkness they had seen inside those eyes was something they had never seen before. From the stories Eric had heard, he imagined it was like an abyss in one of Hel's rivers, if not even the _Hvergelmir _itself–the bubbling spring at Hel's realms, from where the _Elivagar_ – the cold eleven rivers – came, and which above it, the dragon _Nidhug_ gnawed on one of the roots of _Yggdrasil_ – the world tree that held the nine worlds together.

He never faced the King of Mississippi, and since he had heard some of the stories about him, he didn't intend to.

"I was attacked, Your Majesty," after a while, he decided to interrupt her. "Some werewolves came to my bar and attacked me. I think I have the right to defend myself."

"You were under attack?"

"Yes, Your Majesty. I didn't know that savage pack belongs to Mississippi," and he didn't know that one of them worked for the Queen.

"What was a Long Tooth doing, hanging around with you at your bar?"

"A shifter brought him to us. He has something that interests me."

"Which is?"

"His relationship both to Fowler and Selah Humphreys."

"And you have to show them who the boss is?" Her voice sounded cynical.

"I was attacked."

"I'd do the same too, Your Majesty," Wybert chimed in. "Somebody has to show them the border."

"How long do you think it will take, to take care of your...," she ran her eyes over him. From his head down to his toes. Something in her way of eye-balling made him shudder. Perhaps it was the calculating look, or perhaps it was the coldness that came through those eyes. He wasn't sure. What he knew, he became alert. "...woman."

"One or two nights," he said, uncertain. Arlene Fowler was angry with him. He could've glamored her, but he didn't want to. He wanted to break her, drag her down to her knees and then screw her like she was never screwed before and swear that she would never kick him out of her place again.

"And you're sure you can do it."

"Upon my dead body, Your Majesty."

"Hah!" she snorted. "You and your dead body. Countless women and men have touched it," she said, but he caught a smile on her face. She had calmed down. "Wybert's body is worthier than yours. No offense, Wybert."

"None taken, Your Majesty," Wybert nodded. Eric could see the light of relief in those big blue eyes.

He threw a look at Wybert and smiled bitterly. Yeah, sure. Because a wild Saxon like Wybert would keep his body pure before he bedded his wife, or in this present time, Pam.

"I will get you the document, Your Majesty," finally he said after he was able to pull himself together. "But if I may ask, what is so important about the Stackhouse case? He isn't even a pure blood. The more I am involved, the more I see finding out the companies, which will produce the synthetic blood is more important."

She straightened her body. "Yes, that comes to my mind, too. But for the moment, keeping eyes on the Stackhouse case is more important than any other matter. Unless," the smile on her face became sinister, "you can't handle that female human."

He sniffed. "Your wish is my command, Your Majesty."

"Then it's settled," she stood up. She looked at Jake's head. Her face looked gloomy. "Would you like to have dinner with me, Eric?"

* * *

><p>That body moved restlessly.<p>

It was a bad habit to leave the window uncovered, without a curtain. Somebody could see what was going on inside the house.

He touched the glass. But who would be able to float in the air and press their nose on this window? Her room was on the second floor. One would need either a very long ladder or he must be able to fly.

Lucky for him, he can fly. The distance between windows and the ground is never a problem for him.

That body moved again. The blanket that covered her was kicked away. Slowly it slipped away from her and fell to the floor. The soft light that came from the lamp on her night table revealed every curve that she had and the high cut of her night gown displayed her legs, like the owners of a shop displayed their best merchandise in the window.

Only six nights ago he had been there, on that bed, having the privilege to touch, kiss and bite any part of her body that he wanted. To reach into the deepest parts of her and to be one with her. Even now, as he was thinking about that night, his senses were waking up. He wanted to hear her screaming in pleasure again, to feel her claws down his back and how she had squeezed him tight, so tight he swore his eyes went crossed because of it. More than that, he wanted to bite her thigh, the closest part possible to her mound. He wanted to drink her blood and at the same time to smell the juice that came from between her legs.

In the past, he would have simply smashed the window to wake her up. But now, like a desperate little boy, he could only tap the window softly, hoping she would wake up without being shocked.

Bang, bang, bang!

The window shook from the strong hit.

Arlene. She was standing right in front of him. Her hands were on her hips.

He smiled. However, his smile was gone as soon as it had come. Arlene had a piece of paper in her hand. Something big and red was written on it.

I'LL CALL THE POLICE!

What would the police do? Even she knew she wouldn't be taken seriously by the police. He blew some air on the glass. The coldness that came from his mouth frosted the glass. Then, he wrote on that frosted part:

_Open the window._

She took another piece of paper and wrote: GO. I MEAN IT.

He should've just smashed the window. But he knew, he couldn't enter; and she knew it too. Besides, smashing her window would only make everything worse.

_Please?_

No answer. She tapped the floor with her foot. Without realizing it, she shook her breasts whilst doing it.

'If she's mine again,' he thought, 'I'll bite those nipples till they...,'

"What?" her annoyed voice filled his ears as she opened the window. His thought about her nipples was gone. She was too angry. He didn't need his blood to tell him that. The anger was written all over her face. If she gave him a chance to say anything, he was sure, anything sexual would ruin his chance.

"Invite me in," he said, and he felt like an idiot. He should've said something else, something poetic...anything, except 'invite me in'.

"Go to hell!" she said.

"I didn't glamor the judge," he said. He had done something else, which he was sure it would make her angrier if he told her.

"You changed her mind... with what else if not...," she stopped her sentence. "You didn't say...?"

"I didn't say anything," he said and smiled. He sensed something else other than anger now. It was stupid to smile, he knew, but he liked to feel what she felt. She was jealous. He had a chance after all. "The shifter did, and I don't know what he has done."

"What do you want Eric?"

A lot. Anything and everything possible before the sun rose. But he said, "Invite me in. For old times sake?"

"Old times sake?" she snorted. "It's not even a week!"

"It's a damn long time for me," he looked at her and couldn't resist to smile again as he saw her blushing. A mature woman in her forties and still, she was blushing.

"Liar!" she said, but her voice was softer. Her hand was on the window sill. Her red hair danced on the air, touched by the fresh night wind.

He touched her hair. "You will need my help," he said. "I can protect you better than the others, you know it. Or...," he looked at her bed. "We can do something else. Something you also know, I can do better than the others."

"Go away, Eric. I don't need you or your...,"

"Sex?" Stupid, he cursed.

"Filthy mind," she said, turning away.

"Arlene...," he was about to lean on the window when he caught a figure on the street, looking at Arlene's apartment building. Then, a strong smell caught his nose. A were, but not a pure one. There's something strange in his sweat. Something familiar...he was taken aback and moved away from the window. That man smelt like mead and honey, not any kind of mead and honey, but the one his mother used to make when he was still a young human. He had never smelt a human odor like that.

Then, he caught another smell. Some feet away from that man, there was another man standing. Different from the first man, the second man was a pure were. He could smell it from his odour, which smelt strong like blood and uncooked meat.

"Arlene...," he called her.

"What?" she turned to him, annoyed.

He put his finger on his lips and gave her a sign to come near to the window. "Who is that man? Do you know him?"

She put herself flat to the wall. "What man?"

"The one who stands under that roof. There, the building with 'Pinto's Diner' neon on it."

She popped up her head. "That's my client," she said after squinting for a while. She made it somehow look childlike and innocent. "Jason Stackhouse. Why?"

The name made him alert. Was that why the queen sent him? What was Jason Stackhouse?

He moved away from the window.

"Eric? What are you going to do?"

He looked at her. "Don't let Stackhouse enter your house," he said. If he could smell Stackhouse, so could other vampires. And if Mississippi managed to enter Arlene's house... he pushed away the thought. No, no thinking about Mississippi tonight.

"What do you mean? Eric?"

He had to find out more about Stackhouse. He had to know what the Queen wanted with him.

"Eric? Don't you dare touch Jason!"

He smiled at her. The only one he wanted to touch right here right now was her. But it seemed, it had to wait. He shot himself up into the sky. Vaguely he heard her saying, "Eric! I invite you back!"

'Heh,' he thought. 'So much to do, so little time.'


End file.
